Magnetic Resistance
by Rae D. Magdon
Summary: S-11 A/O. Despite taking a leave of absence, Alex finally decides to pursue Olivia. Olivia's insecurities, a serial rapist, and Abbie Carmichael's teasing only make things harder. A decade of sexual tension and denial is about to unravel...
1. Part One

******Pairing:** Alex/Olivia (Serena/Abbie)

**Spoilers:** SVU up to Season-11 (including Loss, Ghost, and beyond)

**AN:** For my Mistress. I love you endlessly. There are also a few "tributes" to some of my favorite A/O writers hidden within the text. See how many you can spot!

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**Magnetic Resistance:**

By: Rae D. Magdon

...

**Chapter One:**

She wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere but the posh, upscale French restaurant that her dinner companion had selected; anywhere but waiting alone at a table for two, staring morosely at a bottle of wine that probably cost more than several of her monthly paychecks; anywhere but here, waiting for the woman that had haunted her for over a decade.

Detective Olivia Benson usually kept a tight rein on her emotions. It was part of the job, but also part of her personality. She was empathetic, always lending strength and emotional support to others, but cautious to accept anything in return. Most of all, she hated feeling weak, and _she_ most definitely made her feel week. Olivia had toyed with the idea of being late, thought about fabricating an excuse to cancel altogether, but here she was, ten minutes early and sitting alone like a fool. She wished that she could disappear.

With no other outlet for her discomfort, Olivia began to grow annoyed. The ambiance of the exclusive restaurant, with its decorative glassware and pricey artwork, jarred her nerves. It reminded her of all the things she hated about Alex Cabot's world. It reminded her exactly why she was sitting in the middle of a pricey French restaurant, alone, angry, and uncomfortable. She still had no idea what she was going to say to Alex.

_Where does she get off, anyway?_ The detective thought, the corners of her mouth twitching into a frown. Olivia was no expert on relationships. Those she had pursued in the past usually crashed and burned after the first few weeks. _I might not know much about relationships, but I don't think you're supposed to start courting a person after announcing that you are taking a new job on the other side of the world. Especially after ten years..._

"Where does she get off, anyway?" she repeated, saying the words aloud this time.

"I could come up with a very... provocative answer to that question," said a familiar voice, the voice that haunted Olivia's dreams, a voice with the power to coax the whole spectrum of emotions from her tired heart.

Alexandra Cabot sat down in the chair opposite Olivia, smiling in a peculiar way that made Olivia's stomach twist. The simmering, aching heat that blossomed even lower only frustrated her more. She had never been able to control her body's responses to the attractive blonde ADA. _Former ADA_, she reminded herself bitterly.

"In case you haven't noticed, Counselor, I'm mad at you," Olivia said, dismissing Alex's flirtation and adopting a bored, disinterested tone.

"But you're here," Alex pointed out.

Olivia wanted to sigh, but restrained herself. Yes, unfortunately, she was here, and although she hated it, she had not been able to suppress the overwhelming desire to see Alex one last time, to hear whatever pathetic excuse she was going to make for leaving. Again. "The flowers were lovely," she said after a long pause, during which the waiter poured the wine, allowed Alex to judge its quality (Olivia took no offense), and began describing the available entrée selections in French.

"Then why do you seem so upset?" Alex asked once the waiter had excused himself. She raised her wine glass. "Salud," she said before taking the first sip. After swallowing, she continued, "or perhaps Santé would be a more appropriate toast, given the location."

Unenthusiastically, Olivia raised her own glass and took a long drink. Expensive vintage or not, she was going to need some alcohol in her system to get through the conversation that she knew was coming. She found herself distracted by Alex's shade of lipstick – or, more accurately, the way that it highlighted the luxurious shape of her mouth. A kissable mouth. Olivia bit down on the inside of her cheek.

In order to purge the torrent of emotions she was feeling, Olivia chose to be angry. "Are you seriously asking me why I seem upset?" Alex did not respond. "For starters, you barge in to my precinct all those years ago, bragging about your political future and trying to tell me how to do my job. Somehow, we become friends. Something... something more than friends. Then, you almost get yourself killed-"

Alex flinched. Olivia knew that Velez's attempt on her life was not the Attorney's fault, but she continued anyway, unable to stop herself.

"You almost get yourself killed and disappear... and that's fine. That's just great. But after the danger is over, you decide to stay gone. How hard is it to pick up a phone, Cabot? Huh? But that's just the start. A couple of years later, you finally decide to grace your former friends with your company again. You ask us for another chance, start to rebuild what we had. Then, out of nowhere, you up and quit to go to some godforsaken place in the middle of goddamn _Africa_ without even telling us first."

Olivia was ranting now, although her voice was deathly quiet and forcefully controlled. "But all of that? That would have been okay. Friends take that kind of shit from each other and I'm a big girl. I could have dealt. But then? Then, you send me flowers. Cute notes. Tickets to the symphony. When that didn't work, tickets to a Yankees game. My favorite candy. If you hadn't made everything seem so classy, I'd ask if you were stalking me! Ten years, we've had this... thing... that we never talk about, and now that you're leaving – _again_ – you decide: 'Oh! How about I mess with Olivia's head and bring these feelings up at the most inconvenient time possible?' So yeah, Cabot, I want to know. Where do you get off?"

Alex Cabot had gotten through boarding school, college, law school, and hundreds of trials by always being prepared. She always thought through every possible outcome before going in to a volatile situation, but she was not prepared for this. It gave Olivia a small piece of satisfaction to see Alex – beautiful, well-bred, always-put-together Alex – speechless for once in her life. "I don't," she finally said, her fingers restlessly adjusting her dark red napkin. "I – none of the things I've done, none of the decisions I've made, were meant to hurt you, Liv..."

Slowly, the blonde was regaining some of her confidence. Gracefully adjusting her glasses – _Oh God, the glasses_, Olivia could not help thinking – she slipped into her lawyer persona like a second skin. However, there was still something human about her, a crack in her cold demeanor. "I refuse to take all of the blame here, Olivia," she said. The detective noticed the use of her full name and was surprised by the unpleasant feeling it gave her. "I have tried to get close in the past. You're the one that walls off part of her soul in order to get through the day."

The accusation stung, mostly because it was true. Olivia did find ways to push the blonde away whenever she reached out. Deep inside, she was terrified that she had done something to alienate the attorney, and that was the reason for Alex's inconsistent presence in her life. Then, Alex did something that Olivia was not expecting. She took off her glasses, staring at the detective with frightened blue eyes.

Alex Cabot was scared.

The realization was so startling that Olivia forgot her anger. She had seen hurt, disappointment, fury, determination, satisfaction, pain, and even joy reflected in that icy gaze before, but never fear.

The waiter chose that moment to return to the table with their entrées, breaking the tense silence between them. The smell of the food made Olivia feel nauseous, but she forced a tight smile at the first course anyway. When the waiter inquired about their orders, Alex looked at Olivia hesitantly. She waved a hand, nonverbally signaling for the attorney to order for her. Alex did so in rapid French, secretly relieved. Ordering for Olivia meant that the detective was not planning on running away – at least, not yet. The night was still young.

...

**Chapter Two:**

"So, Counselor, do you want to tell me why I'm here?"

"Do you even know why you're here?" Alex asked. She waited several long moments for the detective's response as Olivia studied her intently over their plates.

Olivia Benson was stubborn. Alex had known that from the day they met. She could remember their first encounter with vivid clarity. Olivia's hand had felt warm and strong as it took hers in greeting. Her brown eyes held a soulful, almost painful wisdom that Alex was surprised to see in someone Olivia's age. The same look began to grow in her own eyes during her first year with SVU. But Olivia's eyes also held something else, something Alex had not seen on that first day, but became aware of as the months crawled by: compassion.

There were many reasons that Alex was attracted to Olivia. Anyone with a pulse would be attracted to Olivia, she reassured herself at first, trying to justify her body's obvious reaction to the Detective. There was the confident way she balanced her weight over her hips, the way her thumbs dipped casually into the waistband of her pants as she listened to her partner, the way she could smile at someone and make them feel like the only person in the whole room. For Alex, it was like being bathed in sunlight.

But there was more to Olivia. Alex knew from personal experience that the kind, compassionate exterior could disappear in moments. The same gentle woman that soothed frightened, violated children had no problem putting the fear of God into the scum that she pursued. Dogged and relentless in her work, she was much more impatient in her personal relationships, and her infamous stubbornness bled over into both areas of her life.

"You were the one who asked me to dinner," the detective finally said, refusing to give a straight answer. They were in a standoff. Olivia was a good police interrogator, but Alex was an equally talented cross-examiner.

Honestly, Alex did not know why she had invited Olivia to dinner, just like she did not know why Olivia had accepted. If their positions were reversed, Alex might not have returned the courtesy. She had a desired result in mind – _desire_ was certainly an appropriate word – but no idea how to go about achieving her goal.

Meanwhile, Olivia was frustrated. _Exactly what is Alex's game here?_ she wondered. Despite knowing the attorney for ten years, some parts of Alex's personality were still a mystery to her. What did Alex want from her? Some kind of goodbye fuck for the hell of it? Weepy, emotional closure? The breakup of a relationship that never got the chance to start?

"Liv, I... you mentioned the 'thing' that we never talk about." There was another awkward pause. "Well, I – I want to talk about it."

Olivia simply shrugged in response. "So talk."

With a sigh, Alex decided to give a little. "You're not making this easy," she muttered. Despite her compassion, Olivia was fiercely protective of her emotions. She would need to make the detective feel safer by putting her own heart on the line first. _I hope she lets me down easy__,_ Alex thought to herself, watching Olivia lift her wine glass. "I love you," she said bluntly, slipping back into her prosecutorial role so that she would feel a little less out of control.

Surprise, relief, anger, and a strange sense of peace caught in Olivia's chest, causing her to choke on her wine. Fortunately, she did not cough the expensive vintage all over the table, but Alex stared at her with a concerned expression. "I'm fine," she gasped, swallowing awkwardly and trying to suck in desperately needed air.

Despite all of the other emotions swirling beneath the surface, the first one that Olivia made sense of was amusement. The way Alex finally said those three words, words that Olivia had longed to hear for what seemed like an eternity... it was just so _Alex_. Forceful, a statement of fact. Confident. Sexy. But Olivia knew that deep down, Alex Cabot was terrified. Somehow, that made her declaration of love absolutely adorable. For the briefest moment, Olivia smiled. Then, she remembered.

"You're leaving," she said, surprised at the shakiness of her voice.

"Not for good. I still live here, and I can purchase plane tickets." Alex continued to look at her expectantly.

"Your job..."

"I'm not your ADA anymore," Alex said.

Olivia tried again. "Elliot..."

"Will get over it."

"It's been ten years."

"Ten years too long."

"You 'died' and left me all alone and when you came back, I thought you didn't want me anymore... wondered if you ever wanted me at all, or if I was just imagining it. I guess I wasn't good enough to convince you to stick around."

Although she possessed enough control to keep them at bay, tears gathered in Olivia Benson's eyes. Alex had seen her detective cry a few times (in their profession, sometimes you needed a good cry, God knows she had cried buckets of tears during the Cavanaugh case), but this was different. This was because of her. It was both frightening and elating to know that she had such a profound effect on Olivia.

"Living without love isn't really living."

Olivia sighed. "Better to have loved and lost?" said the detective, regaining control of her voice. The brief crack in her emotional walls had closed again and Alex scrambled for another way in.

"So you do love me." It was not said braggingly, merely a statement of fact.

"I never said that."

"You didn't need to." Reaching across the table, Alex covered Olivia's strong, square hand with her own pale fingers, caressing the detective's knuckles with the pad of her thumb. The simple contact sent sparks skittering along Olivia's arm and up her spine. "I've known you for too long, Liv," she whispered. "You can't lie to me."

When the waiter returned to collect their plates and offer desert, Alex made a point of not removing her hand. Their server was, of course, too polite to draw attention to the fact, but Olivia was surprised by the counselor's boldness. For someone as political-minded as Alex, displays of affection towards another woman could be devastating. Perhaps the attorney had changed over the years. Perhaps...

Olivia pressed her lips together tightly, trying to dismiss those thoughts. It was too risky. Alex Cabot could be trusted on the job, sure. Despite what she said, she was all about getting justice for the victims. She wasn't just out to raise her own numbers and forward her political ambitions. But as a lover... Olivia just couldn't be sure.

"I can't do this, Alex," she said, unable to hide the regret in her eyes.

"Can't or won't?"

"Does it matter?"

"Don't tell me the fearless Olivia is afraid of a harmless little blonde."

Olivia snorted, rolling her eyes. "First of all, you've got two inches on me because your legs go on for days and you wear high heels." Picturing those heels lifted Olivia's spirits for a moment, as did imagining the round swell of the attorney's calves while she was wearing them. "Second of all, you can make grown men piss themselves when you go up against them in court."

Alex smiled and extended the hand that was not covering Olivia's, brushing back a loose strand of hair. "You've let it grow long," she murmured, the tips of her fingers barely brushing Olivia's cheek. "It looks very nice, but I miss your pixie cut. With your walk and that leather jacket you like to wear in fall, it made you look like a female James Dean." Alex's smile grew wider when she saw a blush crawl across the normally controlled detective's cheeks.

"Alex, I shouldn't..." Olivia started, but she couldn't make herself finish the sentence.

Snatching the bill before Olivia had a chance to grab it, Alex signed for their meal and said, "since when have you cared about shouldn't or can't?" This time, it was her turn to blush. To stall for time, Alex pulled her AmEx from her purse and passed it, along with the check, back to the waiter. "Come back to my apartment with me," she implored once he was gone. "Please, Liv... just to talk." It was a lie and both of them knew it.

Even as she started to say no, Olivia found herself nodding her head. She had never been able to turn down Alex Cabot. _Just to talk__,_ Olivia told herself firmly. But she was worried that she would not be able to keep the silent promise.

...

**Chapter Three:**

"Oh my God. Seriously?" Even the fog of arousal and the cloudy fear of uncertainty did not prevent Olivia from laughing as she scrolled through the titles on the embarrassed lawyer's iPod. She had expected classical music, something that she knew Alex very much enjoyed. The Cabot name was always listed on the New York Philharmonic's program. But what she had found instead was too irresistible to ignore.

Crossing her arms over her breasts, Alex gave Olivia her sternest expression. "Olivia, don't you dare make fun of me."

When Alex had suggested that the detective pick out something to listen to during the drive, she had not considered the contents of the iPod that she always kept plugged into her car. She had a second for use at home and a third for her office, finding it more convenient to buy three and keep them in predictable locations instead of carrying around one and losing it, which she had done several times before wising up.

"Are you under the impression that your Lamborghini is a low-rider, counselor?" Her wide grin effectively broke the tension that had grown between them all evening.

Alex's eyes darted to the left. "No," she lied, grabbing the iPod from her detective and hiding it behind her back. "It's what I like to listen to while I'm driving... don't you dare make fun of me," she repeated, although this time the words sounded more like a plea than a threat.

_We're not even at my apartment and I already have her begging,_ Olivia thought. She knew that she should chastise herself for the inappropriate thought, but her good humor remained. Still grinning, Olivia unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to the driver's side, her hand snaking around Alex's waist and trying to grab the incriminating iPod. When Alex continued to hold it out of reach, Olivia pressed closer, almost straddling the flustered attorney in the driver's seat. "Come on, it's not that funny," Alex said, her voice slightly breathless, but not from embarrassment. Olivia's close contact was making her forget what she had been embarrassed about in the first place.

"I disagree," Olivia said, capitalizing on Alex's distraction and reclaiming the iPod. "It's absolutely hilarious that your iPod is filled with, hmm... let's see... Beyoncé? Rihanna? Oh, do I see Dr. Dre here in collaboration with Snoop Dogg?" She continued to scroll through the playlists with her thumb. "Sir Mix-A-Lot? Really? That's old school, Alex. Did you have a bad perm back in the 80s, too?"

Alex glared at her in mock outrage. "Old school? Maybe I should remind you that you have a couple of years on me, Detective Benson."

"Don't try to distract me from the topic at hand, counselor. I know your tricks. So, just how far do you like to turn your bass up while cruising around in this baby, huh? Did you pay your mechanic to give your expensive imported car an adjustable suspension, too? Want me to buy you some rims to go with it?"

"You're supposed to be a detective," Alex grumbled. "Does it look like my car has an adjustable suspension and rims?"

Olivia could hardly contain her laughter. "Come on, you have to admit it's funny..." _And kind of cute,_ her brain silently added. "Lawyer Barbie pulling up to the courthouse in a pimped out car, speakers at full blast..."

"Did you really just call me Lawyer Barbie? I can't believe you, Liv..." The fiery blush that spread over the normally composed lawyer's cheeks finally made Olivia realize just how close their bodies were. Her amusement vanished in an instant. The detective's mind was shouting that having her body pressed tightly against Alex's was a _very_ bad idea, but could not bear to pull away.

Alex was much less conflicted. After a decade spent struggling with her feelings, she had already given up the fight before asking Olivia to dinner. Now, even though the position was a result of her humiliation, she finally had the handsome detective right where she wanted her – almost. Drowning in warm brown eyes, she leaned forward and captured the brunette's lips, unable to stop her hands from sliding over Olivia's hips.

Fireworks. Stars. The high, ethereal notes of an invisible violin. All of the clichés were nothing compared to the reality of kissing Alex Cabot, Olivia decided. Time stopped. She forgot to breathe. She could only feel soft pink lips moving against hers.

Slowly, reluctantly, Alex pulled away, finally realizing that she could not start a second kiss with Olivia unless she ended the first. And she definitely wanted a second kiss. And a third. She didn't even want to stop at a thousand. Before Olivia's short-circuited brain could register the end of the first kiss, Alex kissed her again, swiping the tip of her tongue against Olivia's upper lip before tugging on the lower one with her teeth. She groaned against Alex's mouth, too overwhelmed to do anything but respond to the pleasurable sensations of the kiss.

_Why did I deny this for so long?_ Olivia wondered as her mind regained its ability to process thoughts. _Oh god, I can't believe I'm finally kissing Alex... oh shit, I'm kissing Alex!_ Panicked, Olivia tore herself away and fell backwards against the steering wheel. Her shoulder blade collided with the car horn, making Alex flinch and causing another spike in her already elevated heart rate.

"Christ, did you have to do that?" she snapped, frosted blue eyes instantly hardening as she tried to calm her heavy breathing. Seeing the terrified expression on Olivia's face, Alex instantly regretted her startled outburst. When Olivia's deer-in-the-headlights look didn't go away, she added, "ending aside, that was the most amazing kiss of my life."

"I – I don't... I can't... Alex – we..." A slender finger pressing against her lips stopped Olivia's nervous stammering.

"What did I tell you about 'don't' and 'can't', Liv?" Before Olivia could start over-thinking the situation, she reached for the seat's adjustable controls, letting the back recline until it was almost horizontal. Still dazed, Olivia remained straddling Alex's lap, staring down at her with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and desire. "Well, don't you want to try again?" she teased, her fingers hooking in Olivia's collar and pulling their faces close.

"I haven't made out in a car since high school," Olivia mumbled against Alex's cheek, "especially not a car this expensive..." Her instincts were screaming at her to run. Even deeper instincts, however, were urging her to take the blonde attorney in her arms and kiss her again.

"That was not making out," Alex purred, curious fingers tugging at Olivia's shirt and un-tucking it from her slacks. "Trust me, you'll know when we're making out." Olivia's eyes darkened, black pupils dilating and almost swallowing the soft brown of her irises. She gasped as warm hands explored the newly revealed strip of skin, sliding over the twitching muscles of her stomach. When Alex finally closed the gap between their mouths, Olivia lost all resistance. She could barely remember her own name, much less why she had ever wanted to run away from these feelings, this woman... Without conscious thought, she deepened the kiss, releasing all of the emotions that she had been holding back for so long.

Alex sighed happily, welcoming Olivia's weight on top of her as her hands continued to wander beneath the detective's shirt. She could not get enough of the warm, soft skin that covered Olivia's torso. As Alex's fingertips grazed her ribs, Olivia realized that her own hands were shaking. Through the haze of arousal and need, she realized that Alex's lips had moved to her chin and were kissing a trail along her jaw line.

Now that the spark had finally been ignited, the detective's need was burning out of control. With a low growl, Olivia's hands slid upwards along the attorney's smooth thighs, raising the hem of her expensive skirt. Admiring Alex's legs had always been one of Olivia's favorite pastimes, and now she was actually touching them...

The corners of her mouth twitched in a smile as the attorney's breath caught. "Ah – Liv... please..." she whimpered, bearing down with her hips in an attempt to make the questing hands climb even higher. Olivia groaned as her fingertips grazed the elastic edge of Alex's panties, capturing the blonde's mouth in another fierce, needy kiss. The heat radiating from Alex was making her head spin.

Alex's hands, which had been trying to slip underneath her bra, fell away, desperately searching for something to grab on to. Finding nothing, they settled on Liv's upper arms, clinging tight enough to leave marks through the fabric of her shirtsleeves. "Liv, please," she repeated, too overwhelmed to open her eyes.

Something in Alex's urgent tone jerked Olivia back to reality. "I – I can't," she said, her voice tight and strained.

A warm mouth latched onto her pulse-point, making her tremble. Finally, it released, but only after leaving a proud red mark on the detective's throat. "Don't you _dare_ say you can't! Not here, not now..."

"You didn't let me finish," Olivia whispered, "Alex, I can't just fuck you in the back seat of a car..."

"Why not?" Letting go of Olivia's arm, Alex's right hand reached beneath her own skirt where Olivia was still stroking her inner thighs. Weaving her fingers through Olivia's, she adjusted the detective's hand until it was cupped between her legs.

Olivia stiffened, not trusting herself to move. It would be so easy to pull the thin material of Alex's panties aside and... "Because," she started to say, but her voice cracked, and she swallowed before trying again. "Because I want to make love to you in a bed instead..."

...

**Chapter Four:**

Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt.

"No... No, no, no, this is not happening..." Alex muttered, trying to pull Olivia back down for another kiss. The detective resisted. With a groan of protest, Olivia half-climbed and half-fell off of Alex's lap, grappling unsuccessfully for her phone. Even though it was on vibrate, the sound was still clearly audible in Alex's car. The only noises to cover it had been their heavy breathing and frantic whispers.

Finally, the flustered Olivia managed to find her cell phone. "Benson," she said, snapping it open to answer the call. "What? Really? El, I ca- Oh... okay. Okay. No, you call her... because she's more likely to pick up for you... Yeah, she likes you better. Shut up... why don't you go jump off a roof? Fine... Fine... Yeah, okay. See you in fifteen." With a practiced flip, Olivia closed the cell phone with her thumb and turned back to Alex.

"I was really hoping that in fifteen minutes, we'd be back at my apartment with your fingers inside of me or my head buried between your thighs." Alex paused, savoring one of her favorite fantasies. She had a feeling that if she were ever fortunate enough to taste Olivia, she would never want to stop. "I guess that's not going to happen now." Despite the disappointed tone of voice, Olivia gasped at the erotic images brought on by Alex's words.

"Um – I, um..."

"You have to go," Alex concluded sadly, reaching for the controls and raising the driver's seat.

"Alex, I'm sorry..." _You have no idea how sorry I am..._

"I've waited ten years for this, Liv. My body is screaming for you to take me right now, but I can wait a few more hours."

Still unsettled by her strong emotions for Alex, their frenzied make-out session, and the disturbing phone call, Olivia was torn between painful arousal and crushing disappointment. Now that their lips were no longer fused together, she was also beginning to have some doubts. Was this really a good idea? Getting involved with Alex could be very dangerous, and it was definitely unwise at the very least.

"No," Alex said, interrupting her train of thought. "Stop that right now. Don't over-think this and list all of the reasons why being with me is a bad idea." Olivia raised her eyebrows, surprised that Alex could read her thoughts so easily. Was she that predictable, or did Alex just know her really well? Sitting up straight, Alex placed a final, soft kiss on the confused detective's open mouth. "Go stop the bad guys, Liv. When you're done, call me and I'll give you directions to my place. I don't care if it's late. I – I want to spend the night with you, even if we don't... um..."

"I'm flattered." Alex covered her surprise by giving Olivia a searing look, but the detective was quick to correct her assumptions. "We've... I've," she corrected when she remembered that Alex was no longer her ADA, "got a sticky situation over near Chelsea. Male vic murdered on his front doorstep. It looks like he was bludgeoned from behind while reaching for his keys, dragged into the bushes, and raped."

Feeling her arousal vanishing, Alex slipped back into lawyer mode. "Sticky situation doesn't begin to describe it," she mumbled, reaching down to fix her skirt and garters. She blushed, remembering Liv's gasp of surprise as her fingers had trailed along the lacy bands that held up her stockings, feeling one last flare of need before pushing her sexual thoughts aside. "I'm sure that Marlowe can handle it."

"I miss you, Alex..." Realizing how intimate the words sounded, Olivia rephrased her statement. "I miss working with you."

"I quit for two reasons, Liv. One was because I wanted to help people like Nardalee." She smiled softly, remembering the woman's incredible courage. Despite her horrible circumstances, her story was truly inspirational. If she was able to show even half of Nardalee's courage and determination during her lifetime, Alex thought, she would be proud of herself. "The other, well... let's just say that coming back to SVU and seeing you again brought old feelings that had never died back to the surface. If I wanted to pursue something with you, I knew that we could not remain colleagues."

Olivia gasped, the sting of Alex's departure from SVU lessening for the first time in weeks. "It – it wasn't because you didn't want to be with me?" she asked, her voice soft and unsure. Alex was surprised by the uncharacteristic tone of voice, but did not comment on it. She simply placed her hand on Olivia's leg and squeezed.

"I left because I _did_ want to be with you, Liv."

For the first time in a long time, Olivia smiled, and there was no pain behind it. She was still afraid – terrified, even – that something horrible would happen to ruin whatever this _thing_ between her and Alex was, but she allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things would work out in her favor his time.

...

"Woah, what's with the huge grin, Benson?" Elliot asked, studying his partner curiously as she exited her car and closed the door. "You really that excited about this rape/homicide, or are you just happy to see me? You sounded like you wanted to bite my head off a few minutes ago."

"Nothing," Olivia said, brushing off his inquiries with a wave of her hand. "What have we got?"

Elliot's mouth curled into a smug grin as he got a closer look at Olivia. "Besides the giant hickey on your neck?"

Looking horrified, Olivia clasped a hand to the side of her throat, trying to cover the offending mark. Elliot almost laughed, but then he remembered that they were at a crime scene. A man had been violated and murdered here, and it was no laughing matter. Still, he filed away the incident for later, resolving to give Olivia an extremely hard time about it tomorrow.

"Male vic, mid twenties. We found ID on him and he's the owner of the house. His name is James Preston," Elliot began, leading Olivia over to the corpse. It was not the worst crime scene that she had ever seen, but it was worse than the usual. The children were always the hardest, followed by the surviving rape victims that had to pick up the broken pieces of their lives. At least this one was dead. And boy, was he dead.

"Jesus," Olivia said. As experienced as she was, even she had to tighten her teeth and force out a smile in order to suppress her gag reflex. "This is bad, El. It looks like the perp tore him apart with his bare hands... look at the claw marks."

It was true. The man had been torn to shreds, pieces of flesh hanging loosely from gaping wounds along his torso. His face was untouched, forever frozen in a mask of horror. His pants were around his ankles. "You said he was raped?" Olivia asked, gesturing at the pants.

Elliot nodded. "Yep. There are fluids present and I doubt they're the victim's."

"I agree that it's highly unlikely, but how can you be so sure?"

Reaching into his pocket, Elliot pulled out a small box of mint lip balm. Instead of smearing it on his lips, he dabbed a little under his nose. Although the coppery scent of blood was strong, Olivia was surprised at her partner's use of the sickness-suppressing technique. Elliot usually only used the mint gel when they were dealing with decaying corpses.

"Uh, his penis was cut off," Elliot forced out.

Olivia winced in sympathy as one of Melinda Warner's assistants carefully turned the corpse in order to place it on a gurney and transport it, careful not to destroy any evidence or damage the body further. _Yep, definitely gone,_ Olivia noticed, glancing between his legs and immediately wishing that she hadn't. "Pass me some of that gel," she ordered, understanding why Elliot had wanted the distraction despite the lack of smell. He was a guy, after all.

"Looks like I didn't miss the party," said a voice from behind them, and both detectives turned to greet their new ADA and Elliot's former partner, Jo Marlowe. Despite the gruesome nature of the scene, Olivia managed a brief smile. Marlowe was a good attorney, and Olivia respected her for having Elliot's back before they had been partnered up, but she was still slightly jealous. She had a connection with Elliot, a close connection that came from years of trust and partnership, and it made Olivia envious. The other part, which was bothering her a lot less since that night's dinner date, had to do with exactly whom Marlowe was replacing.

No matter how many times Alex vanished and reappeared, in Olivia's mind, she would always be Special Victim's _real_ ADA. Novak had come close, and Olivia had finally begun accepting that while she would never replace Alex, she could bring her own skills and ideas to the courtroom. Then Casey had been disbarred, leaving them with yet another replacement... for everyone's sake, Olivia hoped that Jo would last longer than Paxton or Greylek. At least Jo was competent, despite their slightly uncomfortable relationship.

"Well, the party didn't end well for this guy," Elliot said grimly, gesturing at the black body bag.

"Anything on the corpse I need to see?"

"You're an ADA now, not a cop," Elliot pointed out. "You can see the photos. If you really want to see a torn-up guy with a dismembered penis..."

Although her expression remained carefully neutral, Jo Marlowe's face went slightly pale. "Not that I can't handle it, Stabler, but I'll go with the pictures. There is plenty of other work for me to do at the crime scene."

"Technically, you don't even have to be here," Olivia pointed out. Alex had come to crime scenes more often than not, usually the complex ones, but Alex was special. Looking back, Olivia wondered if Alex made excuses to come in order to see her... the thought made her smile and for a moment, she forgot about the decidedly un-romantic location.

"There's that smile again. What is up with you, Liv?" Elliot asked, unable to hide a note of teasing in his voice.

"Probably has something to do with the huge mark on her neck," Marlowe added.

Olivia blushed. Like the impressive Abbie Carmichael, Jo had a decidedly sexual slant to her sense of humor. _And just like Carmichael, she's a ball-buster and a pit-bull in the courtroom._ Marlowe was also known to take personal phone calls without any sign of embarrassment as long as there was nothing else important going on.

Alex, on the other hand, came with a completely different list of descriptive adjectives. At best, she was beautiful, honest, classy, alluring, frightfully intelligent, and way out of Olivia's league. At various times, however, Olivia had called her a snob, an elitist, a frigid bitch, an ice queen, and even a Republican.

"Woah, Olivia, where's your brain tonight?" Elliot asked, nudging his unresponsive partner's shoulder.

Olivia glared at him. "In a happy place that I almost got to visit, but you haven't seen in a while. Want to guess where?" she snapped back, shoving him lightly in the middle of his chest.

"All right, _children,_" Marlowe called out, chiding them, "let's go investigate the house. I can make a decent case for its inclusion in the crime scene, since the victim was murdered on the front steps and all... I'm pretty sure he won't mind the slight invasion of his privacy if it helps us catch his killer."

...

**Chapter Five:**

For the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, Olivia wondered exactly why she was standing outside of Alex's penthouse apartment at a little after two in the morning. Reluctantly, she admitted to herself that it was because she was a pushover – at least where Alex was concerned. Olivia was terrified of the increased emotional intimacy between them and irritated that she was so desperate to see the beautiful blonde after only a few hours apart... _But here I am anyway._

Alex was a force to be reckoned with and she was used to getting what she wanted. Olivia had never been capable of denying her anything (at least without a work-related reason). That was how the detective had been suckered into a fancy French dinner date with her, after all. The truth was that Olivia Benson would have walked down Park Avenue in her underwear if Alex Cabot requested it.

The security guard downstairs had allowed her in to the building with just a flash of her badge and driver's license. As she stared at the door to the apartment, Olivia realized why. The locks were electronic and the door's frame was metal beneath the concealing paint. _Damn, this place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. _No one could get to Alex unless she allowed them into the apartment.

Still debating whether or not to knock on the door, Olivia was surprised when the choice was taken from her. The door opened on its own to reveal a pale, bleary-eyed blonde. Olivia bit her lip to keep from giggling. The attorney looked absolutely adorable in her frog-shaped slippers. Alex's expression immediately became more cheerful when she saw Olivia and she opened the door wider to let her in. With pleasure, Olivia realized that she had seen a much softer side of Alex Cabot in the past few hours.

"Hey," said Alex, her voice cracking with sleepiness, "I'm glad you came. I was really hoping you wouldn't chicken out on me."

Liv grinned at her, feeling giddy instead of nervous. "And miss this?" she teased, gesturing at the attorney's tank top, sweatpants, and green froggy slippers. Her glasses were perched haphazardly in the middle of her nose and her usually perfect hair was mussed from her pillow. She was still an impressive sight.

Alex growled at her, but Olivia could tell that she was only pretending to be annoyed. "Stop that. This is the second time you've made fun of me tonight. It's not the best way to go about convincing a woman to go to bed with you."

Olivia's grin grew wider. "It's part of the Benson charm." She winked.

"Pretty damn sure of ourselves, aren't we?"

"Well, you were groping me like a horny teenager in your pimp car earlier..." Olivia's voice trailed off, interrupted by a shove to her right shoulder.

"If I remember correctly, you were doing plenty of groping yourself, detective. Close the door, give me a kiss, and come to bed with me."

Not for the first time that evening, Olivia found herself speechless. All thoughts of teasing Alex vanished from her mind. Even in pajamas and frog slippers, the blonde lawyer looked incredibly beautiful. Olivia had to work hard to snuff out the heat growing in her lower abdomen and calm her elevated heart rate.

Alex only smirked at her. "Not to disappoint you, but I think both of us are too tired to make love right now."

"That wasn't what you were saying earlier," Olivia said, trying to add a joking note to the tone of her voice. She failed, unintentionally revealing a deeper, more serious layer to the statement.

"Coerced confessions can't be used in court." At Olivia's disappointed look, Alex reached out, resting a pale hand on the sleeve of her jacket. "I do want you, Liv, but it's late and both of us need to be up early tomorrow. I'm flying out to Washington for a few days to iron out some details concerning my new position. Besides, I want to take this slow... we have time."

Instead of reassuring her, Alex's words only made Liv's uncertainty stronger. "You're leaving?" _So soon? After what just happened between us?_ Her eyes added silently, betraying her hurt feelings.

"Only for a few days," Alex repeated. "Then I'm back for a while before I go to Africa in a couple of weeks. I'm not leaving New York, Liv, and I know it isn't fair to ask you, but... it will make me so incredibly happy if you are waiting for me when I come home."

With a long, shuddering breath, Olivia tried to silence the voice telling her to run. Her instincts told her that starting something with Alex now would be a huge mistake, but her heart did not want to listen. Even though she did not show it often, Olivia had a very strong emotional side. She decided to go with her heart.

"You really want this job, don't you?" she asked. Alex only nodded. She did want this job. It wasn't just about finding herself. It wasn't even about the chance to pursue a relationship with Olivia. It was about contributing to a cause, about helping women who could not help themselves. Somewhere along the line, the idealism that had drawn her to the study of law had dimmed a little. Now, the old flame was burning again.

"So, Cabot, you offered me a bed?" Olivia asked, trying to ease the renewed tension between them. The fact that Olivia was trying to diffuse it instead of stewing in it gave Alex hope.

"My bed. With me. After a kiss," she said, confident hands gripping Olivia's waist and pulling their hips together. Olivia was helpless against the lawyer's strategic assault, and for the second time that night, she drowned in the sweetness of Alex's lips.

...

"Getting out of bed the next morning and leaving her was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do," Alex said, concluding her story to a very smug looking Abbie Carmichael.

"We-he-hell, it looks like someone finally decided to take my advice!" the former ADA drawled, sounding more than a little pleased with herself. The pair had a standing dinner date whenever Alex ended up in Washington or Abbie came to New York. Even though Abbie was with the Feds, she and Alex had kept in touch through regular e-mails and phone calls. In fact, they were closer now than they had been as colleagues in the DA's office. Absence, Alex supposed, thinking of Olivia, really did make the heart grow fonder.

At the moment, they were eating brunch in a diner that served large portions and provided waitresses with heavy Baltimore accents, complete with gum smacking. It was not Alex Cabot's usual scene, and she wondered if Abbie had selected it to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Let's just say I got tired of your nagging," Alex muttered, spearing her eggs.

"Aw, come on, Alex. Everyone in New York could see you had a crush on Olivia Benson as big as all hell and half of Texas. And I don't blame you! Most red-blooded men and more than a few women would call you a fool for leaving _that_ in bed without taking advantage,"

"I was raised better than that."

"Is that what you said to poor Olivia when you were necking in the back of that fine car of yours? From the look in your eyes, she got you hotter than a two dollar whore on the fourth of July."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Is sex all you ever talk about?"

"It ain't my first rodeo." Abbie grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

With a sigh, Alex poured more maple syrup on top of her pancakes. Although the atmosphere of the diner and Abbie's attitude were trying her patience, she was still infected with the nervous happiness that had overwhelmed her ever since her dinner with Olivia. "I _know_ you are doing this whole Texan thing just to annoy me," she said, unable to hide her smile.

"I can do more," said Abbie, her grin growing wider. Sometimes, the brunette challenged herself (and Alex's temper) by inserting a colloquial statement into every other sentence.

"I think I've had enough of your strange brand of humor for one day."

With an overly dramatic sigh, Abbie abandoned her attempts to embarrass Alex and gave her friend's left hand a reassuring pat. "I'm happy for you, Cabot. Really happy. Olivia will be good for you if you can keep her from running."

Alex's thoughts, which were completely out of her control by this point, drifted back to Olivia again. The memory made her blush. "I hope I provided just enough incentive, and just enough frustration, to hold her interest."

"So _that's_ why you said no! Clever girl..."

Alex only shrugged. She was too embarrassed to admit that she was a little nervous about losing herself in pleasure with the gorgeous detective. She had a feeling that Olivia was more experienced with that aspect of relationships. Were they even in a relationship? Alex had made it clear that she was interested in one, and after her initial bout of nervousness, Olivia had seemed receptive, but they had not officially agreed to anything.

"Don't worry about it, Alex, she's definitely interested," Abbie said, picking up on her friend's dazed and slightly confused expression. "I've watched her watch you for years. Given the chance, that woman would beat you like a rented mule." When two blue eyes widened, she added, "would you prefer ride you hard and put you away wet?"

Alex groaned. "I don't know which of those two was worse. Drop it, Abbie, or I'm going to stab you through the hand with my fork!" She brandished the utensil in a threatening manner until a throat cleared loudly beside them.

"Ya need some more water, hon?" asked their waitress.

Alex kept her composure. Now that Olivia Benson was not in the room, it was easier to remain calm and professional. "Yes, please," she told the waitress, purposely not reacting to the loud smack of her gum. "Thank you," she added when the waitress took her glass.

Once they were alone again, Abbie started laughing. Alex shot her a pointed glare. "I think you make a game of embarrassing me, Carmichael, and you probably even keep score."

Abbie didn't deny it. "I'm just trying to help you loosen up, Cabot. But since Olivia Benson was sleeping in your bed last night, maybe she'll do the job for me."


	2. Part Two

**Chapter Six:**

Olivia slumped against the door to the children's interrogation room, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead with steepled fingertips. Even after all these years on the job, there were still times when the ugliness she saw threatened to overwhelm her. The black moments were less frequent now, or maybe she had just learned how to hide them better, but Olivia knew that if she ever stopped feeling them, it was time to retire or find a new line of work.

Huang was in there now, helping the seven-year-old girl that Olivia had been interviewing put away the precinct's toys. She was primary on this case, since Elliot was in Richmond informing James Preston's parents about his death. The questioning was done, and now the detective needed a few moments alone to collect herself. She opened her eyes, reluctantly raising her head and moving aside as Huang approached the windowed door and turned the knob, stepping out into the hallway.

"Are you all right, Olivia?" he asked, keeping his voice soft so that their conversation would not be audible to the little girl in the interrogation room.

"No," Olivia admitted. Granted, any normal person would be upset after questioning a child for over an hour about the repeated rapes she had endured at the hands of her teenaged babysitter. Based on the girl's recollections, it was pretty obvious that the rapist was a victim of abuse himself. "God, the perp is just a kid, too... how can someone so young be capable of so much evil?"

Huang placed a careful hand on her shoulder, looking for signs that the touch was unwelcome. Olivia gave none, simply accepting the silent comfort. "Darren Forbes needs to be punished severely, but he needs help as well. We'll make sure he gets it."

"Sorry, George. I'm fine now. Thanks for finishing up in there. My emotions have been getting too close to the surface recently, I guess."

"Anything you want to talk about? Off the record."

Olivia shrugged. "No, just some things I have to work out for myself, I guess. Thanks for the offer, though." Alex had been gone for three days and Olivia missed her like crazy. She had called twice, but Olivia had not had the nerve to call back. The messages were saved in her phone's memory, though, and she had listened to them several times in order to hear Alex's familiar, comforting voice. Cradled in a sleeping Alex's arms, it had been so easy to forget all of the reasons why getting involved with the blonde attorney was a stupid idea. In the sobering light of day, with Alex in another city, all of those reasons came flooding back.

"You should call her, Olivia," said Huang, removing his hand from the detective's arm before she could get defensive.

Olivia's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure what you mean," she said carefully.

"You should know by now that cops are terrible gossips. Apparently, you showed up at a crime scene looking very pleased with yourself a few nights ago."

"Don't tell me Elliot started spreading that around or I'll have to kill him," Olivia groaned. "Hey, how do you know it's a her?"

Huang gave her a soft smile. "Gaydar?" Olivia scowled at him. "Lucky guess," he tried again, deciding not to add some of the other guesses he had made about Olivia's romantic life and the woman he suspected was intruding in it. "And since you were fiddling with your cell for a good ten minutes before the interview, I got the impression that you wanted to make a phone call."

Not confirming or denying anything, Olivia straightened her spine, supporting her own weight instead of continuing to lean against the wall. "I don't suppose you have any ideas about our other open case? The Preston rape/homicide," she clarified, deliberately changing the subject.

Allowing Olivia to retreat back into her comfort zone, Huang considered her question. "Perhaps I'm biased, but I doubt that your murderer and rapist is a gay man, despite the presence of fluids."

"What makes you think that?" Olivia asked, genuinely curious.

"I have some theories, most of them concerning the mutilation of the genitals, but right now, let's just call it a hunch."

"I hold your hunches in high regard," Olivia said. "I've learned that you're usually right. Elliot wanted us to ask around in the scene, simply because of the location of the murder and the fact that the vic was male. But..."

"But..."

"This is going to sound stupid, but the victim didn't _look_ gay. Granted, you can never really tell, and he was pretty torn up and mutilated, but... the pants. I just can't picture a gay guy wearing thug pants and dirty tennis shoes. Besides, he hadn't shaved in a couple of days and his messy apartment looked like a straight guy's bachelor pad. Don't hate me for stereotyping," Olivia added hastily.

Instead of looking angry or offended, Huang seemed amused. "At least you are thinking of good stereotypes. If you want to live with the delusion that gay men are neater than straight men, I am more than happy to let you." Glancing back towards the door, he observed the little girl waiting inside. "We've left her too long already," he said, "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Yeah, I appreciate it. Let's get Katie back to her mother. She's had a tough afternoon."

...

The next night, lounging on the sofa with a bowl of buttered popcorn and watching TV, Olivia found her thoughts drifting back to Alex. The lawyer's second phone call had stated that her flight would arrive at LaGuardia sometime around 8:30 that evening. It was almost nine, and Olivia kept wondering whether Alex's plane had been delayed, whether she had caught a cab all right, whether she had forgotten anything... For some reason, the mere knowledge that Alex was coming back to New York soothed her worries a little.

"Nothing in my life can ever be simple, huh?" Olivia asked the television, flipping through the lower channels with bored disinterest. Desperate for something to watch, she finally settled on Oprah, who was currently interviewing a couple about their marital and financial difficulties. For some reason, it made the detective feel slightly better. Apparently, there were some people in the world even worse at relationships than she was.

Olivia was almost disappointed when the doorbell rang. Although she would deny it under oath, watching Oprah rip into the dysfunctional couple had been somewhat entertaining. Figuring that Elliot had a new lead on their male rape/homicide, she resigned herself to another interrupted evening and headed to answer the door.

She was surprised to see Alexandra Cabot, looking fabulous even after an afternoon of travel. _Her clothes aren't even rumpled... and how does she get her hair to stay so neat?_ Olivia wondered. Aside from her wheeled carryon and dark circles under her eyes, there were no other signs that the attorney had been cooped up on a plane for the past several hours.

Suddenly realizing that she was staring, Olivia backed out of the doorway to allow Alex into her apartment. "Uh, come in," she said awkwardly, irritated that she still had trouble forming sentences around the beautiful blonde lawyer. She had never experienced that particular problem during their time as colleagues (at least not after the first month), but it resurfaced whenever Olivia interacted with Alex in more intimate settings.

"Only if you don't have any other plans," Alex said, not wanting to intrude. "You didn't answer your work phone, so I figured you were either avoiding me or something had happened to you... I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Olivia smiled, pleased that Alex had been worried about her. "No, I'm fine," she said, spreading her arms to reassure Alex that she was okay. The lawyer raised her eyebrows, giving Olivia's body a long, slow perusal from head to toe.

"You look more than fine to me," she murmured, taking a step closer. Olivia swallowed nervously. "I'm very glad that you're in such good shape, Olivia, but that means you owe me an explanation. Were you avoiding me?"

Normally, Olivia's script of the 'why didn't you call me' conversation involved several accusations and a great deal of arguing. However, she knew that Alex had not done anything wrong. Two phone calls over four days could hardly be considered clingy or inappropriate. Alex's persistent advances made her uncomfortable, but only because of their shared past. However, she could not deny that a part of her wanted them...

Raised voices from the television distracted Alex from her line of questioning, and Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. A slow smirk curled around her lips as she glanced at the flickering screen. "Oprah?" she asked, arching one eyebrow over the frames of her glasses. "Not what I would have picked as your usual television fare."

Olivia blushed. "If you tell Elliot, I promise to let him know about your ghettolicious driving playlist." The tension between them broken, Olivia closed the door behind Alex and helped her maneuver the wheeled carryon suitcase beside the couch. Sitting back down on the couch, Olivia patted the space next to her. "Take a seat. I made popcorn. You can have some if you promise to leave a few crumbs for me."

"Sitting down sounds great right about now," Alex groaned, lowering herself next to Olivia and bending over to massage sore calves.

"Not tired of sitting after the long airplane ride?"

"I was, but then I had to walk out of the airport in high heels..." Alex slipped the aforementioned shoes off, rolling her ankles and wiggling her toes. Even without the shoes, Olivia could not help admiring the shape of the beautiful attorney's calves. Alex's legs really did go on for days...

"See something that interests you, detective?" a teasing, playful voice inquired.

Embarrassed at being caught, Olivia refocused her attention on Alex's face, which was also lovely to look at. Staring into Alex's brilliant blue eyes, the internal war inside of Olivia ceased. "I'm sorry for not calling you back," said Olivia. It was the first time she had ever apologized for keeping her distance. "I should have-"

"It's okay... you can apologize by giving me a welcome home kiss."

...

**Chapter Seven:**

As Olivia's lips brushed against Alex's, she realized that their first magical kiss – and the hungry kisses that followed – had not been a fluke. The stars, the fireworks, and the violins were back. _How does she do this to me...?_ she wondered briefly before words slipped away from her.

She groaned as the blonde-haired woman teased a full lower lip with her tongue, deepening the kiss and begging for entrance to her mouth. Olivia had been kissed by many different men and women during her life, but none of them ever made her feel like this. With Alex, it was powerful. It stole her breath away and made her heart pound frantically against her ribcage. It was right.

Suddenly, Olivia's attention was torn away from Alex's soft, willing mouth and the curious hands that had begun exploring her denim-clad legs.

_Bzzzzt. Bzzzzzt._

"Oh my god, not again. If that's Elliot, I am going to kill him this time," Alex whispered, her lips still centimeters away from Olivia's, allowing the detective to feel their movement as they formed the words.

"Maybe it'll go away," Olivia said hopefully before kissing Alex again.

_Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt._

Alex frowned, regretfully pulling away from Olivia and resting her forehead on the detective's shoulder. "Answer it. If it isn't some kind of huge emergency, I'm going to be very upset."

Equally frustrated, Olivia flipped open the phone. "Benson," she snapped, resisting the urge to hang up as Alex's fingers trailed along the exposed strip of skin between her shirt's hem and the waistband of her jeans. Her would-be lover let out a whimper of disappointment when she realized that Olivia was wearing a white undershirt, but she did not let it deter her progress.

_"Hello there, Sunshine, I needed to ask you about-"_ Elliot paused, straining to hear the softer, muffled voice coming from Olivia's end of the connection...

"I am going to kill him, I'm going to kill the perp that made him call you, and if you don't hang up that phone right now, Olivia, I'm going to kill you, too," Alex growled, her words just loud enough for Elliot to overhear.

" – _Olivia, is that Cabot? Where are you? Why does she want to-"_

"Elliot, this is a really bad time," Olivia hedged, trying to dodge away from a very persistent Alex. The blonde lawyer had tucked her chin over Olivia's shoulder and was placing a line of open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her neck, nipping the sensitive flesh with her teeth whenever the mood struck. "Stop that," she said to Alex, her voice an octave lower. Despite her words, a wandering hand settled over one of the attorney's breasts, squeezing lightly through her shirt. Alex responded with a low groan.

Unfortunately, on the other end of the phone, Elliot could hear exactly what was going on. _"You and Cabot, huh?"_ he asked, torn between amusement and surprise. Olivia could hear the conflicting emotions in his voice. _"I mean, you always look at her like you want to bend her over her desk and do her, but I figured you were strictly dickly and she just had that effect on everybody..."_

If Alex had not been kissing a sensitive spot beneath her ear while removing Olivia's shirt, phone be damned, she might have responded with a witty retort, but she was past caring. "I date both men and women, Alex is close enough to hear what you're saying, and unless someone has been raped or murdered, I'm going to have to arrest Alex for homicide..."

_"No, but I needed to ask yo-"_

"Then I'm hanging up. Good _night,_ Elliot."

The phone and Olivia's outer shirt landed on opposite sides of the room. Alex's lips seemed to be everywhere at once, caressing a dark cheek, marking a shoulder, kissing the corner of her mouth. Two warm hands squeezed Olivia's hips, trailing along her sides and working her undershirt up along her stomach. Too impatient to bother removing the undershirt and bra completely, Alex lifted them just enough to expose the smooth curves of Olivia's breasts, immediately taking one of the hardened tips in her mouth so that her hands could begin working on Olivia's belt.

Meanwhile, Olivia's fingers were busy undoing the buttons of Alex's blouse. "Alex – gah!" The detective's train of thought was interrupted as sharp teeth scraped against her nipple. "We – we need to... slow down... I want this to be perfect for you, more romantic..."

Choosing to ignore Olivia's pleas, Alex tugged at Olivia's pants instead. "It will be perfect because I'm with you."

Unable to hold back any longer, Olivia tore the front of Alex's blouse, grabbing the blonde's wrists and pinning her to the couch. Alex froze, momentarily disoriented, only to let out a long sigh as Olivia's hands roamed along her thighs, teasing the skin with the edges of her nails. The detective's weight was comfortable on top of her and the hot tongue that teased the column of her throat made speech impossible.

"You are. So. Goddamn. Irresistible," Olivia purred, punctuating the words with nips and kisses to the vulnerable skin of Alex's shoulder. The blonde whimpered in protest when Olivia's face pulled away, but changed her mind when she saw that the detective was only removing the rest of her clothing. "The skirt has to go." Alex obeyed, removing her stockings as well. Olivia's hands explored her torso, cupping her breasts and stroking her arms and shoulders.

For a long time, the two women simply stared at each other, amazed that this experience – something that had only been a part of their dreams for so many years – was finally becoming a reality.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Olivia asked, outlining the shallow grooves of Alex's ribs, which were only visible when she arched her back. She paused to explore the swell of a hipbone, noticing Alex's shiver of pleasure and filing the spot away to kiss later. Finally, finally, her fingertips grazed the skin above a neat strip of blonde curls.

Alexandra Cabot was an artist with words, but as Olivia's touches roamed lower, the only one she managed to remember was, "Please..."

That was all the confirmation Olivia needed. With a low groan, her hand began gliding through soft, slick warmth. Her head spun at the sight before her – her gorgeous Alex, her friend, her lover, trembling beneath her, damp blonde hair plastered to one cheek and the side of her neck. Her face was flushed and her chest rose and fell with sharp, shallow breaths.

Olivia stopped worrying about the consequences, losing herself in the vivid feelings and sensations. The trust Alex displayed in her, the need, was more addictive than any drug. "Tell me what you want," she murmured against her willing captive's ear. Even though Olivia had released her wrists to explore new territory, Alex had not moved them.

"Take me."

And Olivia did. Alex had said please, after all. She claimed her lover in one smooth motion, making both of them gasp as clinging, velvety muscles gripped her fingers. Her thumb moved in slow circles over the straining bundle just above, a counterpoint to the steady stroking of her other fingers. Somehow, Alex managed to curl one knee around Olivia's waist, pulling her closer, tighter, deeper. Begging for more contact.

Warm lips returned to Alex's throat and shoulders, memorizing the taste of flushed, salty skin, leaving behind several marks so that neither of them could forget. In Olivia's mind, it only proved that what they were doing was real and not just another lonely fantasy.

Alex began whispering in her ear, her words returning to her in a flood as Olivia made love to her, saying things that thrilled and terrified the normally stoic detective. "I love you, Olivia... I've always loved you. I need you. Don't – don't stop... Liv... Liv... I want you with me forever. I love you... Always. I'm yours. Mmm, more... Please, love – Olivia..."

When Alex came, sighing as smooth, silken muscles clutched rhythmically at her lover's hand, Olivia could not look away from shining blue eyes. Not able to stop, she coaxed the last shuddering pulses of pleasure from her new lover, soaking in the soft, helpless sounds that Alex made like a woman dying of thirst. She noticed the tear tracks on Alex's pink cheeks and kissed them away, trying to convey her feelings without words.

Draped over the couch with fresh marks on her throat and breasts, her hair ruined, her glasses crooked, Alex had never looked more beautiful to Olivia. Tenderly, she removed her hand from between Alex's legs, making both of them shudder. Reaching up, she straightened the frames of Alex's glasses. God, she loved those glasses, but most of all, she loved the woman behind them.

"You're glowing," she said quietly, trailing wet fingers down Alex's cheek, tracing the line of her lips. Alex took them in her mouth, closing her eyes as her tongue swirled, tasting herself. The soft, warm pull of Alex's mouth created an answering tug much lower.

Coming out of her soft, dreamy haze, Alex's eyes began to clear. "I love you, Liv. Give me a moment and I'll show you just how much."

...

**Chapter Eight:**

Baggage. _If I were checking bags at the airport, they'd charge me extra for overweight fees,_ Olivia thought to herself. Way too much baggage. Now that the years were creeping up on her, it was starting to show. Her deranged attempt at marriage to spite her mother at sixteen, the string of broken, not-really-relationships that had followed, a history of bad decisions.

In truth, her friendship with Elliot had more longevity and stability than any romantic relationship she had ever had, even though it had only pushed over the line between platonic love and sexual love once. One mistake of a kiss later, that idea had quickly been ruined for both of them. Years later, they could joke about it, but at the time, it felt like another personal failure on her part.

She sighed, staring down at the honey colored hair resting on her shoulder. The color deviated slightly from Alex's usual pale blonde shade, and Olivia wondered if her hairdresser had added different highlights. _How long have I been watching her, that I notice such subtle differences?_

In all honesty, Alex was a much larger part of her baggage than she cared to admit. She would deny it until her last breath, perhaps even under oath, but the determined ADA's disappearance had broken her. Despite all the rest of her baggage, a small, secret part of Olivia hoped that someone would be able to love her someday. Those hopes did not show themselves often, silenced by the critical, logical voice that Olivia used to control her emotions, but they rested somewhere deep inside her, waiting.

Alex's time in WITSEC had almost been her undoing.

But now, here they were, sweat-slicked bodies pressed close, hearts balancing on the edge of something indescribably wonderful... together. Those secret, hidden hopes were stirring to life again.

It would be so easy to fall in love with Alex. _Who am I kidding? I'm already in love with her. I have been for years._ Olivia sighed, pressing a kiss to the dozing attorney's warm forehead. Her eyes were closed, her breath deep and even as she slept curled up against Olivia's side like it was the most natural place in the world for them to be. Everything felt so right...

Olivia shifted slightly in Alex's embrace, almost smiling as the blonde murmured something in her sleep and held her tighter, unwilling to let her go. The small movement made Olivia's heart ache. Was Alex afraid she would cut and run? She could not deny that she was thinking about it. Part of her wanted to sneak out the door and never come back. After experiencing Alex, no one else would ever be enough. Alex loved her. Olivia believed it. She had seen it in those sincere blue eyes, felt it in the gentle, reverent caresses that explored her legs and hips and breasts, the lips that had teased and taken and tortured hers.

She had believed it as Alex's fierce, scorching tongue explored her folds, only pausing when the counselor glanced up through the square lenses of those damn glasses and licked her lips, lips covered in gloss and a smile and Olivia. At the time, the look had been incendiary, even decadent. But remembering, the detective knew that there was love behind it. And that terrified her.

Before, Olivia had always been afraid that her lovers would leave her once they knew too much about her. Now, she was afraid of something completely different. She was afraid that Alex would stay with her forever when she deserved so much more... Alex should have given her heart to someone worthier of her. Someone without the extra baggage fees. Someone as beautiful as her, as passionate as her, as resilient as her...

"Shut up," a tired voice mumbled beside her, breaking over the words.

Raising her eyebrows, Olivia looked down at her sleeping... lover? Mistake? Girlfriend? Soul mate? ... whatever Alex was. "I didn't say anything," Olivia defended herself, still not completely sure if Alex was awake or talking in her sleep.

"In your head. Shut up," Alex repeated, only half-conscious.

The blonde's intrusion on her private thoughts upset the delicate balance of her emotions. Olivia tensed, preparing to leave the bed where they had finally ended up after several near-accidents between Olivia's room and the couch.

"Stay." Although her eyes remained closed and the black-rimmed glasses were resting over on the nightstand, Olivia felt like Alex was watching her. "Can't fuck and run when it's your apartment," she pointed out, adding to her argument by draping a possessive arm over Olivia's hips.

Reluctantly, Olivia settled back down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the hell was happening to her life. It certainly wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but it was hers, and now Alex had upended it. She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or resentful.

"That wasn't fucking," Liv murmured, so softly that Alex almost couldn't hear her with her ear pressed into the pillow and her face buried in Olivia's neck.

"You're not running."

Closing her eyes and giving in, for the moment, Olivia reminded herself never to argue with Alex, even at – she squinted at the digital clock beside the bed, trying to make out the bright, blurry letters – 2:11 in the morning. Of course, she just had to get involved with a lawyer.

Feeling something in between fear and hope, both women allowed themselves to drift into a warm, comfortable sleep. For now, they were together. For now, their world was at peace.

...

Alex stared down at the number pad on her cell phone, debating which speed dial button to press. Common sense warring with her desire, she finally punched the number five and listened to the ringing of the phone.

_Click. "Hello, you've reached Pleasure To Your Ears, I'm Abbie and I'll be your phone sex operator this morning,"_ came the long, slow drawl from the other end of the connection. _"What's your pleasure, gorgeous?"_ Alex covered her eyes with her free hand, shaking her head. Of course Abbie wouldn't answer her phone with a crisp, businesslike "Carmichael" today... that would be too easy.

"You're lucky I'm not your boss calling," Alex grumbled, scooping up her discarded clothing from various places in Olivia's living room. She had to hide a smile as she removed her underwear from where it was draped over a lampshade. "How did you know it was me?"

_"Psychic." _Alex could hear the eye roll all the way from D.C. _"Caller ID, Alex. Someone sounds like they haven't been out of bed long yet... and I'll bet it wasn't your bed." _Alex frowned, but forced herself to smooth out the wrinkles that were creasing her forehead. She hated when Abbie was right. _"Let me take a guess. You've been eating supper before you said grace, and I suspect it was with a certain heart-stopping detective. Was I right about her riding you hard and putting you away wet? You've got the morning-after voice."_

"How do you know what my morning-after voice sounds like? You've never slept with me," Alex said, deliberately avoiding the question.

_"Only because you're too hung up on Olivia to look at anyone else. I must say, she's probably prettier in the morning than that Jim fellow or the Toad."_

Alex rolled her eyes at Abbie's not-very-kind nickname for her former fiancée, Robert. "I told you about WITSEC," she sighed, really not wanting to revisit that conversation. "You know I tried to see people who were as... unlike Olivia as possible afterwards..."

_"In other words, wealthy, pompous men. Thank heavens you came to your senses and hopped back over to my side of the fence. Picturing you with a man makes my skin crawl. But if you got your lasso around Benson's neck, why the hell are you calling me? Shouldn't you two be fooling around in the shower or something?"_

Trying to keep her words as calm as possible, Alex finally confessed. "I guess I didn't aim the lasso too well. She's gone..."

Several hours away, Abbie could hear the tiredness and the disappointment in Alex's voice. She wasn't even trying to cover it with her usual aloofness. Since Alex rarely came to anyone for comfort or advice, the federal prosecutor knew that that this was serious. _"Don't assume anything until you talk to her," _said Abbie. _"She might have caught a case or gone to get breakfast or went on a walk to clear her head... Hell, she might have just gone back to her apartment to change clothes."_

"I'm at her place."

_"It's morning and you're still at her place? Then stop worrying. Benson never lets her bedmates stay the night."_

"How do you know?" Alex asked suspiciously, not liking the tone of her friend's voice.

_"Put those claws away, kitten. I've had my share of one-night stands and some of our ladies of choice have overlapped. So, you still haven't told me how it was..."_

Perfect. Magical. Everything she had ever dreamed for as a shy, studious teenager, back when she had still believed in romance. "I'm not giving any tidbits to fuel your active imagination. You already have a dirty mind."

_"Aw,"_ Abbie pouted, but she did not protest any further. Beneath the cool mask that Alex kept in place, the Texan knew that her friend had a very tender heart. She only hoped that Olivia would realize this as well and offer some reassurance before it was too late. _"Sweetheart, hang up the damn phone and go find your woman. Insecurity ain't flattering on you."_

"Isn't," Alex corrected automatically, but she was smiling a little.

_"Call her, Alex. Finally making love after mooning over each other for God knows how long gives you a free pass..."_

Alex relaxed, feeling slightly less insane for wanting to call Olivia, but her muscles immediately seized up again at the sound of a key in the lock. "The door," she said in a rush, snapping the phone shut. She knew that Abbie would give her hell for it later, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Olivia was home.

...

**Chapter Nine:**

"Who was that?" Olivia asked, staring at the closed cell phone clutched in Alex's white-knuckled fist. She did her best to keep her voice calm, unsure how she felt about Alex's presence in her apartment. It was unsettling, but also sort of... nice. This was something she could get used to.

"Carmichael," Alex said as casually as possible, wondering how much of the conversation Olivia had overheard from the other side of the door. She suddenly realized that she was only wearing a blue bathrobe that she had found hanging on Olivia's bathroom door, and her underwear was clutched in her other hand. A hot blush spread across her cheeks. "Um, I was just..." she held up the underwear, offering it as an explanation.

Not for the first time that morning, Olivia smiled. "You were just..? I see. So, why were you calling Abbie Carmichael?"

"Girl talk," Alex said, stuffing her panties in to one of the bathrobe's deep pockets and trying to collect herself.

"Girl talk?"

"Stop repeating everything I say. You sound like a parrot." The teasing tone took the sting from the words and Olivia's smile remained. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were jealous."

Recognizing the statement for the fishing expedition it was, Olivia decided to calm Alex's nerves. "Abbie's slept with at least half the women in the DA's office, even the straight ones. Hell, she's probably slept with half of the lesbians in the entire city. Maybe that's why I'm so curious about your phone conversation with her."

Alex took a step closer, regaining some of her wavering confidence. She had never been one to shy away from uncomfortable situations. Had Olivia just implied that she was interested? "I asked Abbie if she had slept with you. She cleverly changed the subject without really answering the question, kind of like we're doing now." Both of them knew exactly which question the blonde was referring to. The question of _"them"..._ if there was a _"them"._

"Technically, I've never slept with Abbie," Olivia said, taking a cue from the absent Texan and avoiding the unspoken question that still lingered between them.

"Me neither, although she keeps asking." Olivia's frown made butterflies erupt in Alex's stomach. She felt like she was back in boarding school, passing notes with a secret crush. "I think if I ever said yes, she'd turn me down... after she fainted from shock, of course. Carmichael doesn't usually chase taken women."

Olivia managed not to let the soft gasp that caught in her chest escape, but Alex noticed the tightening of her throat and the slight widening of her brown eyes. She took a second step forward, bringing her closer to the uncertain brunette, and carefully reached out a hand to cup Olivia's hip. The detective allowed herself to be pulled into a loose embrace.

"Exactly which woman has a claim on you, Counselor?" Olivia whispered, pleased when her voice did not shake and she did not stumble over her words.

"I think you know." Alex raised the hand that was not stroking Olivia's hip and rested it on the warm skin of her neck. "I should have told her ten years ago, but life has a funny way of correcting its mistakes." _My mistakes,_ she added silently with her eyes. When Olivia did not respond, Alex tried again. "I take making love very seriously, Liv. Except for a brief period of time when I was emotionally unstable, I have never taken someone to bed that I didn't have feelings for... but what I feel for you is so much stronger than anything I've experienced before. I can't even describe it."

"I don't deserve you." Olivia's tone was flat and accepted no argument.

"I get to make that choice, not you." Any other protests that Olivia might have made were lost in Alex's lips as she brought their mouths together in a kiss. Olivia sighed, the internal battle inside of her heart pausing as she focused on how good kissing her lover felt, on how wonderful it was to finally hold her in her arms. She had never been able to resist Alex before, but this new dimension of their relationship only made saying no even more impossible.

Without conscious thought, Olivia's hands searched for the knot at the front of the borrowed bathrobe, wanting nothing more than to feel naked skin. Alex trembled in her arms, her breathing ragged, her eyes dilated and unfocused behind the lenses of her glasses.

"I want to taste you," Alex whispered, her breath tickling Olivia's cheek. "I want to drown in you. I want to feel you trembling against my tongue as you come in my mouth..."

Her inner muscles twitching sharply at the soft, intense suggestions, Olivia's fingers finally managed to untie the knot of Alex's bathrobe. Slowly, the soft blue fabric drifted down the attorney's shoulders, revealing several more inches of pale skin.

"You already did that last night," she whispered back, easing the front of the robe open and cupping two soft breasts, their tips straining against the cool air and Olivia's touch.

"I want more," Alex answered in between kisses. "I could spend years doing that for you..."

Olivia didn't doubt it. A large portion of their time in bed the night before had been spent with Alex's head between her legs, a warm, clever tongue teasing several orgasms from her sore, straining body as she wove her fingers in blonde hair and held on for dear life. The memory brought a flood of wetness and heat with it, and Olivia suddenly felt overdressed. "Help me," she growled, shoving the bathrobe to the floor and reaching to undo her own pants.

"No, I want – let me..." With one last lingering kiss, the blonde dropped to her knees and backed Olivia up against the wall beside the front door. Quickly unbuckling Olivia's belt and unzipping her pants, Alex pulled them down to mid-thigh with an impatient tug. Wasting no time, she nuzzled Olivia through her underwear, purring as she felt the patch of wetness that had seeped through the fabric. The note of desire in her lover's voice caused Olivia's breath to catch and the insistent strokes of Alex's tongue and lips over her underwear made stars explode behind her eyes.

"Off," she groaned, tugging at the elastic waistband and helping Alex to remove her underwear, hips bucking at the first touch of the attorney's tongue. With her pants caught at mid-thigh, her movement was somewhat constricted, but her hips arched against her lover's mouth, seeking more pressure, more heat, more of Alex.

The torturous exploration seemed to last forever, and Olivia was surprised when her inner walls quivered with a small but noticeable orgasm. Instead of satisfying her, the quick peak only made her want more, her hips straining harder against her lover's mouth.

Olivia shuddered as Alex's lips wrapped around her, suckling the straining, sensitive bundle of nerves and lashing once, twice with her tongue. The smooth tips of Alex's manicured nails dragged over her inner thighs, only pressing hard enough to stimulate, not breaking the skin or leaving marks this time. "Tease..." she gasped as Alex pulled away, nibbling at puffy outer lips and savoring the taste of Olivia on her tongue. "Aah... you were – oh – serious... about doing... this for y-years?" she stammered, tensing the muscles in her legs so that she would not collapse on top of the woman that was pleasuring her.

"Mmmm..." Alex moaned her approval of the idea, the sound slightly muffled because of her position, but she managed to make herself heard without pulling too far away. "Stay with me." Kiss. "And you get this." Lick. "Whenever you want." Kiss.

_"Yes – Yes..."_

Not feeling the least bit guilty about using lovemaking as a manipulative weapon, Alex skillfully tipped her lover over the edge for a second time with a well-placed scrape of her teeth. This, she decided as her hands helped a shaking, whimpering Olivia to keep her balance, was now her favorite thing to do in the world. Winning cases and fighting for justice would just have to move down on the list.

...

**Chapter Ten:**

"I didn't mean to run out on you," Olivia confessed later that morning. "I freaked out. I won't do it again." Alex did not chastise her, merely accepting the apology with a smile. Olivia raised one eyebrow and gave Alex a strange look. "What's the big smile for, Counselor?"

"What, you don't smile after making love?" Alex defended herself, throwing a naked leg over Olivia's hips and rolling on top of her. They were lounging on the couch together, clothes scattered around the room for a second time. "I don't know about you, but it's been years since I had anything resembling decent sex – excluding last night and this morning." Olivia stared at her with curious brown eyes, silently encouraging her to explain. "It took several years, a failed relationship as Emily, a very distasteful one-night stand, and a sham of an engagement to force me to admit that I would never get over you."

"And that's why you came back?"

Alex nodded, the motion dragging the ends of her loose hair across Olivia's shoulder. "I was stuck on you." It amazed Olivia to see the normally reserved attorney staring at her with such open, honest emotion. Love poured from her eyes, softening the lines of her face.

Suddenly realizing that she was staring like a lovesick fool, Alex scrambled to redirect the conversation and gloss over her embarrassment. "So, do you want to explain what you meant when you said that you _"technically"_ hadn't slept with Abbie Carmichael?"

Olivia blushed, the added heat rolling off of her skin and on to Alex's. "Caught that, did you? Why did I have to fall for a lawyer?" she mumbled.

Alex's body vibrated with excitement and hope, almost forgetting about Abbie. She decided not to draw attention to the detective's choice of words, afraid of frightening Olivia if she pointed them out.

"Abbie and I have never been, um, intimate, but we did... ah... share a woman once. A few years ago, I was seeing one of Abbie's friends. It was her birthday... we gave her what she asked for. I ended it a few days later. It wasn't the kind of relationship I was looking for."

"I don't share," Alex stated firmly, tightening her grip on Olivia's naked body. The possessive growl in her lover's voice made Olivia's skin prickle. "Not with anyone, and _especially_ not with Abbie."

"I don't want to share either. Not you."

Realizing that this was the closest thing to a declaration of love that Olivia was going to give, Alex was over the moon. The rest would take time. She could be very patient and very persistent. "I have rules," she said, nuzzling the line of Olivia's jaw and rubbing a flat stomach with her knuckles.

Olivia arched her eyebrows. "Somehow, this doesn't surprise me."

Ignoring the dig, Alex forged ahead. "If something is bothering you – about us or about anything – you tell me. You don't have to say what it is if you don't feel like talking, but don't pull the strong and silent routine. I hate that. Second rule: if I call you, you answer the damn phone or call back later. In return, I promise not to smother you, but no more avoiding me." Olivia had the decency to blush. "The last rule is that we have to make love as often as possible."

Olivia grinned, her hand sliding up along Alex's thigh and cupping between her legs. She gasped at the surprising amount of wetness that coated her fingers. "I think I can handle those rules. In fact, I think I need a review of rule number three right now..."

...

When Olivia finally stumbled in to the precinct at 10:00 that morning, two hours later than usual, Elliot was already seated at his desk, bent over some paperwork. He looked up as she sat at her own desk across from him, giving her an unusually slow and thorough perusal with his eyes. Olivia glared at him as he stood up and walked over for a visit, dreading the inevitable confrontation.

"Go away," she snapped even though Elliot had not said a word. She was not sure whether he would choose to make fun of her or bombard her with questions, but either way, she wanted to head him off.

"Well, good morning to you, too," he said with a teasing grin. "I covered for you with Cragen, so you owe me. Jeez, most people go to work whistling after they get laid, but you're just being a grouch about it. Did the Ice Queen leave you high and dry?" Responding in kind to Elliot's childish attitude, Olivia stuck her tongue out at her partner. Elliot leaned forward, making a show of examining the tip, and then reached for her right hand to check her fingers.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, snatching her hand back.

"Checking for frostbite." Olivia gave Elliot's head a well-aimed smack with the same hand. "Hey, ow! That hurt! No need to get violent. Cabot might like it rough, but I-"

Olivia shot him a glare and he swallowed his words. "Don't talk about Alex like that. She's been really sweet..."

"I'll bet."

"Drop it, Elliot," she growled, less than amused by her partner's jokes, especially when they were at Alex's expense.

Realizing that he had pushed her far enough for one morning, Elliot changed the subject. "I hope you got at least a little bit of sleep last night, because we have to finish up interviews on the James Preston homicide. Dad wants an update."

Olivia sighed. "Fill me in." While Elliot had made a drive to Richmond County to inform Preston's parents of his death, the Forbes babysitting case had consumed most of her time and attention over the past few days. Fortunately, seven-year-old Katie's rapist had been handed over to Marlowe for prosecution and was no longer her primary concern.

"Not much to update you on," he admitted. "I got the address of an on-again, off-again girlfriend from his folks. Name's Alicia St. Michael. We can start with her. The DNA evidence at the scene is overwhelming. We just need a suspect to match it to. Maybe she can tell us if anyone had a grudge against Preston."

Olivia nodded her understanding. "Okay then. Bring in the girlfriend and we'll see if she can give us anything helpful."

...

"I don't believe you," said the shaking voice of Alicia St. Michael. The short, slender woman was sitting across from Olivia in the interrogation room, and her expression was pained. "No one would kill Jimmy. This is some kind of practical joke, right?" Even as the words came, both women recognized the hollowness in them and allowed them to fade.

Dismissing the question as a reaction to Alicia's surprise and grief at the news of her boyfriend's death, Olivia shook her head, her expression sympathetic but unwavering. "I'm sorry, Ms. St. Michael. We would have told you sooner, but we just got your address from James' parents. We're doing everything we can to find out what happened to him," she promised. The detective had told Alicia only the basic details – James was dead and they thought someone else was involved. _No reason to make things even harder and describe the rape and the dismembered penis,_ she figured. "Do you feel up to answering a few questions?"

Soft brown eyes, several shades lighter than Olivia's, grew wide. "Am I a suspect? On TV, the police usually question suspects..."

"No, you're not," Olivia hastened to reassure her, deciding to handle this one very gently. Alicia seemed horrified by what had happened to her sometime-boyfriend, and evidence at the scene clearly indicated a male perp. Even without the semen and skin samples, she doubted Alicia St. Michael was strong enough to subdue a healthy, tall male in his twenties and tear him to pieces. "I would like to get a clearer picture of his life. It could help us to find out who did this."

As Olivia had hoped, referring to the interrogation as "helping" made Alicia much less uncomfortable. "Of course."

"We just need to find out who he spent time with, what he liked to do, if-"

"-if anyone would want to hurt him," Alicia finished for her. Olivia's silence confirmed the accuracy of the statement. "I haven't spoken to him in a few weeks," she admitted, trying to collect herself. "We were on an off-period... Jimmy wasn't always the greatest guy."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't abusive or anything, just self-centered and a little... crude. He was kind of a poser. But that doesn't mean anyone should have killed him." Olivia remembered the messy apartment and the "thug pants", as she had so eloquently dubbed the deceased's last outfit for Huang's benefit. She was reminded of a white teenager at a wealthy, affluent high school pretending to be black.

When she had mentioned this to Fin, his response had been, "the money for that damn fool's pants coulda fed someone's kids for two weeks. If he really wanted to look like he was from the Bronx, all he has to do was keep the same worn out clothes for a couplea years instead of playin' dress-up."

Like Preston, Alicia looked to be in her mid twenties, but she dressed very differently than her boyfriend. Instead of dressing in expensive imitations of gangster clothes, she was wearing neat slacks, sensible shoes, and a blouse suitable for an office job. Not designer brand, but well-cut and respectable looking. Briefly, she wondered what the pair had in common. Realizing that she was making an awful lot of judgments based simply on clothing, Olivia continued listening.

A few more minutes of conversation with Alicia St. Michael did not reveal much more than they already knew. James Preston was twenty-seven years old, the only son of fairly affluent parents who still helped him with his rent and car payments. While Alicia worked as a dental hygienist in a local pediatric dentist's office, James had graduated college with a degree in 'business' without putting much effort into his studies. He had a part time job now, but preferred spending time with his friends. As a boyfriend, he was friendly, but slightly inattentive.

"He wasn't a bad guy," Alicia hastened to assure her. Olivia sensed that the slender woman did not want to speak ill of the dead, but kept her thoughts to herself. "He could be nice sometimes. He was just..."

"Not very grown up yet?" Olivia offered.

"Exactly."

A knock on the door interrupted the interview. Olivia politely excused herself and made her way to the door, leaving it open a crack as she stepped outside to see Elliot waiting for her. The somber expression on his face told her that something was wrong before he had a chance to speak. "You'd better wrap it up early, Liv. We've got another one."


	3. Part Three

**Chapter Eleven:**

When they arrived at the crime scene, Elliot and Olivia were surprised to see Jo Marlowe waiting for them, her ever-present briefcase clutched in her left hand. She was holding an umbrella casually over her head, her neat appearance unaffected by the light drizzle that had begun on the drive over. Olivia was slightly envious as she pulled her leather jacket tighter around her shoulders.

"Well, well, well, look at who finally decided to show up? I thought the boys in blue – and girls, sorry Liv – were usually prompt arrivals at any crime scene, especially a serial like this."

Ignoring Marlowe's observation, Olivia pulled on a pair of crime scene gloves and shook a stray lock of brown hair out of her face. She had grown it long, but was debating a trip to see her hairstylist. She knew Alex preferred it shorter...

"There's that grin again," the blonde ADA teased, resting one hand on her hip and giving Olivia an expectant look. "You look even happier than a few nights ago at Preston's house."

"How do you know this is a serial?" Elliot asked, deliberately changing the subject. "I'm not even going to ask how you got here before us. You sure you've given up on being a cop, Jo?"

Jo Marlowe shrugged, gesturing at the corpse that was waiting for them. "Take a peek and judge for yourself. Trust me, I have no desire to look at the poor guy any longer than necessary. Whoever did this is one sick bastard, let me tell you."

A cursory glance at the crime scene left no doubt in either of the detectives' minds that the same murderer had struck again. Although this man was slightly older, in his thirties, and well dressed, he had been raped, tortured, and killed in an identical fashion to James Preston. His skin looked like it had been torn by the claws of a wild animal and his face was untouched. Reluctantly, Olivia checked between his legs and was not surprised to find that something important was missing. Beside her, Elliot could not suppress a shudder. She did not blame him in the slightest.

As the rest of the team gathered evidence, Olivia and Elliot ran theories by each other, hoping that one of the ideas would stick.

"Think this guy gets off on killing, or did he get so mad that he just lost it?"

Olivia shrugged. "My guess is the second, but we can't know for sure." Both detectives were too experienced to jump to conclusions without evidence to back them up, although they had a healthy respect for their instincts as well.

"That's what I think, too. It would take a hell of a lot of rage to make someone do this to a body." They examined the corpse in silence for a few more moments before ME Warner's assistant prepared to move it. Olivia made a mental note to bring Melinda more flowers, or possibly some candy, when she stopped by for another visit. The Medical Examiner was recovering well so far, but her near-fatal shooting had frightened the entire precinct.

"Huang says this isn't a gay thing," Olivia said, offering their colleague's perspective to Elliot. "From all accounts, the first victim was straight. No idea about this one."

"A rejected lover?"

"Don't think so. I do think it was personal, though."

Elliot shrugged. "Fine then. We'll see if anyone in their circle of friends overlaps. Maybe we'll find a link.

"Hey, Nancy and George, get over here." Jo Marlowe's voice drifted over to them from several yards away. Elliot looked at her, confused for a moment until he placed the reference.

"Well, come on, Nancy Drew," Olivia said, nudging her partner's shoulder with her own. "Let's get to it. Marlowe wants to show us something."

"How come I'm Nancy?"

Brown eyes rolled up to the cloudy gray sky. "Because I'm the handsome one."

"I'm sure your date last night thought so," Marlowe quipped, overhearing the tail end of Olivia's statement. Olivia raised one eyebrow. "You're strutting around like a peacock, you keep shifting in that coat of yours like you've got scratch-marks down your back, and there are even more hickeys than at our last crime scene. Lord, Benson, don't you own cover-up?"

Really not wanting to let Marlowe in on her relationship with Alex, Olivia brushed it off. "Ha ha, very clever, you should be a detective. Now, what did you want to show us?"

Their new ADA pointed to a pool of blood in the bushes beside the front steps. "A missing piece of our vic," she said, deliberately turning her eyes away from the dismembered body part in question. Olivia winced. All of the teasing was forgotten and a somber mood settled over the two detectives and the attorney.

"Bring one of the techs over here. This needs to be bagged and tagged."

...

"Aw, c'mon darlin', give me something. It's the least you can do after hanging up on me..."

Alex let out a long-suffering sigh, pouring over the medical forms that she was required to fill out in order to travel to Africa in a few weeks. When she had accepted this new position, she had no idea how much paperwork was involved. "You've had a sexual experience with her, shouldn't you know?" she muttered, glaring at the dark-haired attorney on her computer screen. Video chatting, she had discovered, was one of the perks of carrying around an expensive laptop. "Besides, you never told me about it, you traitor. That makes us even for the abrupt hang-up."

"I didn't get much of a look at what Olivia was doing. I was busy." Abbie made a 'v' shape with the second and third fingers of her left hand and stuck out her tongue between them.

"You are such a child."

"That's what Serena used to tell me. She also used to tell me 'Oh God' and 'Please don't stop'. Branch almost caught us once."

The blonde suppressed a groan. "Am I the only person in law enforcement that you _haven't_ slept with, Abbie? Fucking your replacement is generally frowned upon."

Abbie grinned, unrepentant. "Aw, that was years ago. Get over it."

"Don't you have some kind of gun rally to attend, some death penalty case to support, or some woman in DC to screw?"

"Nope! I have nothing but time for you, my dear Alex. You know you're my favorite."

Alex snorted. "Yeah, your favorite person to annoy."

"I'll go to confession at church."

Abbie's dual personality was a never-ending mystery to Alex, and she had long since given up trying to understand it. Except for her quest to sleep with every lesbian and bisexual woman in the United States, Abbie was a good ol' Bible-toting, gun carrying, Republican-voting Southern Girl. "Don't give the pastor a heart attack," she mumbled.

"Actually, I think he gets off on it..." Abbie drawled, her smile highlighting perfect white teeth and two symmetrical dimples.

"Hey, I might be an Easter and Christmas Catholic, but even I know that going to confession doesn't work unless you repent first. I think you do it just to cause trouble."

"Trouble is my middle name, sweetheart. So, you're not going to tell me anything? I gotta live vicariously through you now, since I'll never have a chance to experience the Olivia treatment, which looks pretty good if the huge smile on your face is anything to judge by."

Instead of being irritated, Alex blushed. "It was... kind of like the 1812 Overture," she finally admitted. It was as far as she would go.

Abbie laughed. "Ride 'em, cowgirl! Give me an invitation to the wedding and pick me out a sexy bridesmaids dress so I can pick up chicks at the reception."

Alex shook her head, burying her forehead in her hands. Abbie Carmichael knew just how to push her buttons.

...

"Penny for them?" Elliot Stabler asked, glancing over at his partner. Olivia shot him a confused look from the passenger's seat of the squad car, forcing him to clarify, "your thoughts. Penny for them. That was your third sigh in the past eighty seconds."

Olivia studied Elliot's face carefully, considering how much she wanted to share with him. As partners, they had a strong bond of trust that only came from years of steady, reliable teamwork. Olivia was not the type to trust easily, but Elliot's unwavering, steadfast presence in her life was one thing that she could truly depend on. They had fought before, sometimes badly – the worst incident resulted in Olivia's brief transfer out of the unit – but they always made up. He was there for her.

"The woman I've been in love with for years just dropped herself in my lap and I have no clue how to handle it. One second I'm over the moon, and then all I want to do is disappear to the South American jungle."

Elliot, who was taking a swallow of his coffee while they waited at a red light, spit his mouthful back into the mug and began choking. Olivia hardly noticed, still staring off into space.

"Wow, Olivia... I mean – uh, wait... what?" He took a deep breath to prevent another round of coughing. Elliot had always assumed that Olivia was straight, but the fact that she hit for both teams wasn't a huge surprise, either. She wore sensible shoes, sat with her legs apart, favored short haircuts (although not recently), and wore a man's watch. Those traits were not exclusively lesbian ones, but taken together with Olivia's brash attitude, they made some people wonder.

He was, however, familiar with her attraction to Alex Cabot in particular. Although they never talked about it, he knew that Olivia's feelings for her ran deeper than respect and friendship for a coworker. Her grief during Alex's shooting had been too intimate. He had written it off as an impossible infatuation, a little like the one he carried for Olivia – a strange connection that drew two souls together even though they were obviously not romantically compatible. Now, he wondered if he might have been wrong.

"She's still leaving," Olivia kept talking, not noticing that Elliot was lost in his own thoughts. "She's flying half way around the world in a few weeks, and I'm afraid that I'll wake up and this will all be over. I'm not sure if I can lose her a second time. One half of my brain keeps saying that I need to cut and run before I get hurt, and the other half is telling me to do stupid things like buy her flowers and cook her dinner."

"It sounds like you need to talk to Alex about this stuff instead of me if you want to be in a relationship with her." Olivia went slightly pale at the word 'relationship', but she did not deny it. She and Alex had definitely started something the night before, and it was powerful enough to frighten her. "So, this thing with Cabot, it's serious?"

Olivia nodded, not making eye contact. "I mean, sex with women is nothing new to me, I've probably been with more women than men, but I have no idea how to be in a relationship with one."

"The same way you would with a man," Elliot suggested. "Women can't be that different."

Olivia frowned at him, feeling a pang of guilt for the way that her... relationship... had come to his attention. She should have told him about her feelings for women (Alex in particular) years ago, but kept putting it off because it was an uncomfortable subject for her. "Um, about that... I'm sorry you found out the way you did, El. I would have told you eventually..."

Elliot waved her aside, accelerating through the green light and flipping the finger at a motorist in the left lane that was trying to squeeze in front of him with no room to spare. "Ugh. New York drivers suck," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Anyway, women like to have discussions about feelings and... stuff. So... do that." Olivia gave him an exasperated look. "No, I'm serious! Listen to what she has to say before you start running around like a chicken with your head cut off. Talk to her about being scared. She'll probably understand. I bet she's scared, too."

"Brilliant." The brunette let out another long, loud sigh. "Oh Lord, I just realized that I'm asking you for lesbian relationship advice, and Alex is probably asking her whore of a best friend for lesbian relationship advice... we're doomed."

"Who?"

"Abbie Carmichael."

Elliot's eyebrows crept higher on his forehead. "What would Carmichael know about lesbian relationship advice?"

"Nothing! She's too busy screwing as many women as possible in DC now that she's finished with most of New York..."

"How do you know that?" he asked incredulously.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

Elliot was torn. Although part of him really didn't want to know, another part was very curious. However, he decided that it would be very unwise to ask any more questions.

...

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!" Olivia shouted as she opened the door to her apartment and threw her jacket over the back of the couch. Despite the panicked thoughts swimming through her head – _what was I thinking, asking her to come back over so soon? I don't want her to think I'm desperate..._ – she had to admit that coming home to Alex after a long day of work was definitely preferable to an empty apartment.

"Lucy, you've got some 'splainin' to do," Alex joked back, wandering in from the direction of the kitchen.

She had obviously been back to her apartment for part of the day because she was wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top instead of yesterday's power suit. Olivia decided that Alex looked just as sexy in casual clothes as she did in her courtroom attire. _Of course, she looks best in nothing at all..._ the seductive voice in her brain could not help adding.

"I do?" Olivia asked, pulling Alex into a warm hug and trying to calm her churning stomach, which had tied itself into slippery, nervous knots. She was incredibly happy, but at the same time, the detective felt like she was walking over glass. This was new, uncharted territory for her, and all of the changes were a little overwhelming. She smiled, leaning forward until their noses brushed. "Hi..."

"Hi yourself. And yes, you do. Explain why the only things in your refrigerator are leftover Chinese food, outdated milk, and a bottle of ketchup? You can't just live on sex, you know, although I'd sure like to try."

Olivia blushed, but she drew Alex closer, nuzzling her cheek and stroking a lock of her lover's blonde hair. She pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, nibbling at soft pink lips until they opened for her as Alex took in a deep, steadying breath.

"Alex, I – do you want... I mean, we could–" Olivia murmured in between kisses, wrapping her arms around Alex's waist. More than a little amused, but mostly aroused, Alex nipped at Olivia's full lower lip, tugging on it with her teeth.

"Olivia Benson, are you going to spend the next minute stuttering like a teenaged boy with his first girlfriend, or are you going to make love to me?" Too distracted by Alex's wandering hands to be embarrassed, Olivia could only nod dumbly. "Good. Then from now on, the only words I want to hear from your mouth, detective, are _oh God_... _yes, Alex_... and maybe _harder_."

"But..." Licking her lips, Alex leaned in for another taste of Olivia Benson, swallowing the protests with her mouth. The kiss was hot and full of promise, and when Alex's lips wandered over her cheek, pausing to suckle at her chin, Olivia forgot whatever else she was going to say.

"For future reference, Liv, this," she took Olivia's hand in hers and placed it over her left breast, "and this," she dragged the hand along her stomach, undoing the button and zipper of her jeans and coaxing their twined fingers beneath the elastic of her underwear, "belong to you now, and you don't have to ask... You can have me however you want, whenever you want, no permission needed."

...

**Chapter Thirteen:**

"Alex... please, sweetie – Alex..." Careful not to pull too hard, Olivia wove her fingers through silky blonde hair and tugged, forcing her lover to lift her head. "No more, baby... I can't take any more." Disappointed blue eyes glanced up from between her legs, making Olivia's pulse jump. Alex let out a whimper of protest, trying to escape Olivia's grip and return to what she considered to be heaven. The hand remained curled in her hair, refusing to let go. "I can't..."

Alex gave her a doubtful look, but paused to rest her cheek against the soft skin of Olivia's right thigh.

"Really," the detective insisted breathlessly, shuddering as the two fingers inside of her were gently removed. Her eyes remained locked on her lover's face as Alex brought the fingers to her mouth, closing her eyes and sliding them between swollen, well-kissed lips. Normally, the sight would have aroused Olivia beyond belief, but her body was screaming for her to rest. Muscle groups that she had forgotten long ago burned, alternating with tingling jolts of numbness.

Olivia's sigh was somewhere between satisfaction and exhaustion. Her heavy limbs sank into the mattress, feeling as though her bones had been replaced with lead. Alex had not been exaggerating with her offer to pleasure Olivia for years. The brunette had no idea how her lover's tongue was still attached to her head. Hers would have fallen off an hour ago, somewhere between the second and third orgasm.

"I don't want to know where the hell you learned your technique, Alex, but I am extremely grateful to be the one on the receiving end of it now."

Alex managed to tear herself away from her favorite place, crawling back up along her detective's body and into a pair of warm, welcoming arms. "How many people know that you like it best when it's slow and gentle?" she murmured, pressing a soft kiss behind Olivia's ear.

Olivia blushed, but did nothing to hide her red face. Strands of damp brown hair clung to her throat and cheek, but she did not bother to fix them. "A grand total of one," she confessed. "You think I melt like that for just anyone?"

"God, I hope not."

"And how many people know that you like it to hurt a little?"

This time, it was Alex's turn to blush. "A grand total of one. You think I let myself trust just anyone?"

"God, I hope not." Both of them laughed softly, and it only added to the relaxed, comfortable atmosphere between them.

Reaching for the blankets, Alex tucked both of them in, settling comfortably against Olivia's chest and closing her eyes. She groaned as Olivia's thigh slid between her legs, rubbing against very sore, tender areas that were not ready to be revisited yet. "Hey, I'll keep your secret, you big romantic mushball, if you never mention to anyone that your former ADA is a pervert." The self-deprecating tone in her voice surprised Olivia, and she considered whether or not to say something.

"You're not a pervert," she insisted, making her decision. "Anyone who thinks that is severely repressed... or severely boring. Or both. Besides, I like your way a hell of a lot. Makes me feel butch." Olivia raised and lowered her eyebrows, coaxing a grin from her slightly embarrassed bedpartner.

"I like doing anything with you a hell of a lot."

"Visiting crime scenes in the middle of the night?"

"Even that... why do you think I came to so many of them."

It was Olivia's turn to grin, her suspicions from earlier that day confirmed. "Guess you couldn't get enough of me, huh?"

"I love you. I could never get enough of you..." The sincerity in Alex's words made Olivia's heart stop, and for a moment, she closed her eyes. Sensing the change in her lover's breathing, Alex tried to extricate herself from Olivia's embrace, but they had tied themselves into a knot of tangled limbs. The detective only held on tighter.

"You were _not_ about to leave me after hours of unmatchable pleasure, right?"

"I didn't want to smother you or pressure you-"

Gentle fingers cupped Alex's cheek, stroking her jaw. "Smother away. You're already mostly on top of me." She squeezed her lover with her free arm to emphasize her point, pulling them even closer together. Alex sighed, her muscles loosening as she lowered her head back down, leaving half of it on the pillow and half on Olivia's shoulder. "Alex, just because I haven't said it yet, doesn't mean I don't feel it..."

One step closer to a full confession, Alex was satisfied. Olivia was probably the hardest case she had ever worked, but in her mind, totally worth it. _Besides_, she thought, reflecting on the previous few hours, _I have plenty of physical evidence to prove her feelings for me now._ Deciding the metaphor was getting too cheesy even for her own oxycotin-flooded mind, she dismissed it, allowing herself a few minutes of peace and quiet to recover. Despite what Olivia might think, she wasn't done yet. This was only a temporary pause.

...

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt._

Olivia bit her lip to keep from swearing aloud. Alex was sleeping peacefully beside her – or, more accurately, curled half beneath and half on top of her. The phone, which was rattling on the nightstand, would wake her up in a moment, but the detective did not want to disturb her by moving quickly, either.

As quietly as possible, trying to avoid extraneous movements, Olivia managed to wiggle her right arm free and flip open her phone. "Benson," she whispered, squinting at the caller ID and trying to angle the glowing screen away from Alex's face.

_"Stabler. So, why are you whispering?" _Elliot asked in an exaggerated stage whisper. _"Are you doing something illegal? Oh! I bet you're with Cabot again!"_

The subject of their conversation chose that moment to stir, snuggling closer and burying her face in Olivia's chest. "Mm. The motion for..." she murmured, half of her words buried in soft tan skin. "No, Your Honor."

"I'm busy," she said, cupping her hand over her mouth to muffle her voice.

_"You ARE with Cabot!"_ Elliot shouted triumphantly, making Olivia wince.

"Fine, yeah, and she's asleep, so keep it down..." She couldn't hide the smile in her voice as Alex chose that moment to mumble something else unintelligible.

_"What's got you so amused?"_

Olivia wished that her partner wasn't so sensitive to the inflections in her voice. She cursed him silently. "Alex is talking in her sleep. It's cute. Now, why did you call me this early?"

_"Six in the morning isn't early,"_ Elliot protested, completely ignoring the question and asking one of his own. _"What's she saying?"_

"No, Munch... I already had potatos..."

A pause. "Um, nothing important."

Deciding that Olivia had suffered enough for the moment, Elliot said, "you know our second vic, Chet Laraway, the stock broker? Well, I was looking for possible ties between him and James Preston, and guess what I found out. Laraway's friends say he had a new squeeze recently. Small, pretty girl named Alicia. Sound familiar?"

Olivia nodded, realized that Elliot couldn't see her over the phone, and grunted in the affirmative. Responding to the noise, Alex shifted her hips against Olivia's thigh. "Mmn. Oh, Abbie... yes..."

Her eyebrows crept higher on her forehead, and there was a second, much longer pause as Olivia held her breath, trying to make sense of what she had just heard. One second. Two... The corners of Alex's lips turned up in a slow, sly grin that Olivia could feel against her shoulder. Holding the phone high above her head, she yanked herself out from under Alex's head and grabbed for the nearest pillow, bringing it down on the laughing attorney's face.

"You little – I thought... dammit, Alex..." Olivia only lasted a few seconds before bursting in to laughter.

Elliot held his own cell phone away from his ear, giving it a curious look. _"Olivia... Olivia? What's going on?"_

More laughter, a few muffled bangs. "Oh shit, the phone!" Panting. A soft gasp. "Stop that... no fair." A moment of silence. "Damn, sorry El, I – well, I'll explain later. I gotta..." Elliot smirked as the call disconnected. As long as Olivia made it to the station on time today, he would update her on the rest then. New blackmail and humiliation material was definitely worth getting up early for.

...

**Chapter Fourteen:**

"Hey, Elliot, do you know any French?" Olivia asked as she walked in to the bullpen, a cup of coffee clutched in her right hand and the lapels of her leather jacket pulled tight around her neck against the brisk autumn air. The chill had not left her when she stepped into the heated building and it made her miss the warmth of Alex's skin against hers.

Elliot, who was seated at his desk and watching her with a smug grin, shrugged his shoulders. "Nope. Kathy knows a little, and Maureen had some high school classes, but I'm French-less. You're our language girl, Olivia, don't you know French?"

Olivia shook her head. "Well, yeah, some grade school French, but I've forgotten most of the non-crime-based stuff. I'm much better with Spanish. Oh, and I can Mirandize in three others." Somehow, she suspected that the note card burning a hole in the pocket of her leather jacket (which Alex had buried her nose in before giving her a searing goodbye kiss that morning) did not describe her right to remain silent or her right to an attorney. She had sounded out the phrases the night before, planning to do a search on the computer, but realized that they were most likely misspelled. She suspected that they were love confessions, and she wanted to know exactly what she was getting herself in to.

Munch, who had been listening to the conversation with no small interest, lifted his head from his own paperwork. "Je parle français," he offered, taking a sip from his own coffee, which was not as fresh as Olivia's and starting to grow cold. "Very well, I might add."

Olivia looked at him curiously for a moment. "I thought you spoke Russian?"

"That, too."

Debating with herself, Olivia pulled an index card out of her pocket and stared at it. Finally, after a very long pause, her curiosity got the better of her. "Uh, I wrote down what it sounded like. I've got a good ear, even though I didn't have a clue what she was saying. I'm not sure if you'll be able to figure out my fumbling phonetics."

"Nice alliteration." Trying not to look too eager, Munch stood up and wandered over to read the index card over Olivia's shoulder. After mouthing the words to himself silently for a moment, the thin detective's eyes grew very large. Finally, he said, _"qu'est ce que je ferais sans toi."_

"What does that mean?" Olivia asked. "I've only got about half of it."

"It means, 'what would I do without you?'"

"_Je t'aime_ means 'I love you'. I remember that much."

"Yeah," Munch confirmed. "And _Amour de ma vie_ means 'love of my life'."

"I figured that one out, too. What about this one?" she said, pointing at another line on the card.

"Ah, the verb tense is strange. It's something like, 'I never want this 'state of being' to end'.I assume this means that you're dating someone, Olivia?" She grinned, shrugging. Although she was not ready to confess the name of her romantic interest, she saw no reason to lie to Munch. She was slightly embarrassed that he was translating for her, but she really wanted to know...

The sound of the squad door opening made all three of them look up as Fin entered the squad room. "Sounds like someone's getting a little honey," he said, shooting Olivia a wide grin. "Wanna fill me in?"

Normally, Olivia hated sharing the details of her personal life, but finding out the sweet things that Alex had told her put her in a good mood. "New relationship," she finally said.

"An observant detective like you has probably noticed the hickeys and the vacant stare by now," Elliot added, chuckling when his partner threatened to dump her coffee on top of his head.

All of a sudden, Munch started laughing hysterically. The rest of the squad stared at him, completely confused. Gasping for air, he clutched at the edge of Elliot's desk to keep his balance, unable to stop laughing.

"Damn!" Fin said in a loud voice, "what's wrong with you, old man?"

In between gasps and more fits of giggles, Munch managed to force out the last, and longest, French phrase that Olivia had managed to scribble down. "_C'etait formidable! Olivia, pourrais-tu defaire les attaches, s'il vous plait? ... mon dieu! Tu as baisé l'anglais hors de moi!"_

Olivia's face went pale. She had asked Alex what the sentence meant the night before, but the blonde, in an uncharacteristic bout of shyness, had refused to tell her. Assuming it was an emotional declaration of love that Alex thought she was not ready to hear, Olivia was determined to find out what it meant so that she could understand the blonde attorney's feelings. Now, however, she wondered if she had made an enormous mistake.

"Um, Munch?" she asked cautiously, waiting for the man to catch his breath, "do you want to tell us what that means?"

"It- it means..." More laughter, and an eye roll from Fin. "It means... 'That was amazing! Olivia, untie the restraints, please? ... My God! You've fucked the English from me!'"

After a long, awkward pause, Elliot started laughing even harder than Munch. "O-Olivia... you... you sexed up Cabot until she started speaking in French? And you – you were stupid enough to tell _Munch _about it?"

Completely humiliated, Olivia snatched the notecard back and stuffed it in to her pocket, frantically searching for an avenue of escape. Privately, she decided that she really needed to brush up on her French. "Bathroom," she said, her voice louder than necessary, and took off like the hounds of hell were at her heels.

Fin, who had joined in the laughter, stared at Elliot with a mixture of surprise and amusement on his face. "Damn, Cabot? Who knew they were shacking up? Or that Alex spoke French?"

"In bed," Munch added wryly.

Elliot, who felt the first vestiges of pity for his absent partner, decided to calm them down. "Oh, come on, guys. Olivia's serious about this. You've already spooked her enough, and I've been teasing her for the past couple of days."

Reluctantly, the three agreed to give Olivia a break... temporarily.

...

It took several hours (and several apologies) from both Munch and Elliot before Olivia would allow either of them within ten feet of her. By the time Alicia St. Michael arrived at the precinct for further questioning, she had reluctantly started speaking to them in short, concise sentences. From years of experience with his wife, Elliot knew better than to push his luck, and he allowed Olivia to conduct the interrogation while he watched from behind the one-way glass.

"Do you know why we asked you to come back and answer some more questions?" Olivia asked the girl, who was looking just as pale and forlorn as the last time she had visited the police station. She was eager to question St. Michael about Chet Laraway, but her instincts were telling her that Alicia would respond the best to a gentle approach.

Alicia sighed, resting her chin on a closed fist and propping her elbow up on the table. There were a few random marks of graffiti that previous witnesses and suspects had carved in to the tabletop, and the NYPD did not have the budget to replace the tabletop every few months, although the worst of the offenders had been buffed and scrubbed as much as possible. "No... I was hoping it was because you found out who killed Jimmy... but I guess not."

Olivia shook her head regretfully. Sensing that her touch would be accepted, she put a comforting hand on the young woman's arm. Alicia did not resist, looking up at Olivia with unshed tears in her eyes. "I was going to come to you before you called me."

There was a pause as Olivia considered that phrase. As the silence stretched between them, Alicia seemed to grow even more nervous. "Did you think of something that might help us?" Olivia prompted.

She shrugged her shoulders, shivering underneath the thin material of her cotton jacket even though the interrogation room was hot rather than cold. "I – The past few days, I've had this strange feeling... almost like... like someone is following me."

Her facial expression did not change, but inside, Olivia felt a burst of excitement. Alicia was the only connection between their two victims so far, and this could turn out to be their first real lead. "Do you think someone is following you?"

"Yes," Alicia said quietly. "I've heard footsteps outside my apartment door at night and I saw a handprint on my window. I'm on the bottom floor... The other day when I went to pick up a bagel, I was sure someone was behind me... I'm feeling so jumpy that I asked my brother to come pick me up." As she described her fears, the rest of the color drained from her face, leaving it even whiter. She looked sick, and Olivia stood up from her chair.

"That's a good idea, Alicia. Do you need some water?" she asked kindly. Alicia stared at the wall, slightly despondent. Olivia didn't blame her. First her boyfriend was raped and murdered, and now she might have a stalker... If she was telling the truth, and there was no reason to believe that she was lying, her life had been turned upside down in less than a week. The brunette really did not want to break the news about Chet Laraway, but she knew that the information had to come out.

"Yeah, I think some water would be a good idea. Wait right here."

...

**Chapter Fifteen:**

"Here's your drink," said Olivia, placing a cardboard cup of water in front of Alicia. Instead of returning to her seat, she remained standing next to the younger woman, her hand resting on the wooden surface of the table. Slowly, Alicia lifted the cup to her lips, taking a long drink. Her fingers left indents in the thin cardboard even though she had not gripped it very tightly. "Better?" Olivia asked. Alicia nodded. "I need you to tell me about your relationship with Chet Laraway."

For a moment, Alicia looked confused. "I thought you were investigating Jimmy's death. Chet's just a friendly guy I went to a few parties with. His job was kind of boring, but he was a nice change..." She paused. "You don't think... he had anything to do with what happened to Jimmy?"

"What do you think?"

The brunette frowned, a worry line appearing above her eyebrows. "I – I don't know. Chet always seemed really sweet. I can't imagine he'd have anything against Jimmy, I'm not sure I even mentioned him when we went out..." She sighed, staring directly into Olivia's brown eyes, searching for answers. "Then again, I'm not sure of anything anymore."

"We don't think Chet hurt Jimmy, Alicia. Are you sure they didn't know each other? Could they have met before?"

Alicia thought about it. "I don't think so. They definitely don't run in the same circles. I started seeing Chet because I wanted a change from Jimmy."

That confirmed Olivia's suspicions. Although they would keep an open mind, it was looking more and more like Alicia was at the center of this mess. So far, two of St. Michael's boyfriends had been raped and murdered on their front steps, and Olivia did not believe in coincidences. She took a deep breath.

"I really hate to give you more bad news in such a short period of time, but Chet..."

"He's gone, isn't he?" Alicia's voice was flat and emotionless. "Like Jimmy." Olivia nodded, moving her hand so that it was covering Alicia's. Not all victims liked to be touched, but she sensed that the other woman needed it. "Do you think I did it?"

"No," Olivia said, even though she wasn't sure anymore. A few days ago, she would not have considered Alicia a suspect, but now, even with the male DNA recovered, she just couldn't be sure. Perhaps she had asked someone to commit the crimes for her? The vicious nature of the attacks pointed to rage instead of careful planning, but Olivia had learned never to take anything at face value during a murder investigation. Right now, Alicia was their only connection between the two victims.

"Tell me more about being watched." The detective went back to the other side of the table, pulling out a notepad and clicking the end of her pen to extend the tip. "Give me everything you can remember; times, dates, the nature of the disturbance... everything. We want to make sure this stops, and we also want to make sure that no one else gets hurt."

Alicia took another sip from the lonely paper cup, emptying it and standing to drop it in the garbage. Before she threw it in the black trash bag, she crushed the cup in one hand, leaving a web of white cracks in the wax coating. She pulled in her bottom lip with her teeth, staring down into the trashcan so that she would not have to meet Olivia's eyes. "Do you think it's my fault? That whoever is following me could have hurt them?"

"We don't know. That's why we need you to tell us as much as you can. All of us want this to be over."

...

The sky was a weary shade of gray as Olivia escorted Alicia outside to wait for her brother, giving Munch and Fin a short, brisk nod as they passed them in the doorway. Despite their joking in the squad room, the detectives of the 1-6 took their jobs very seriously and they all had a close relationship.

"Brought ya lunch," Fin said, handing Olivia a small brown bag with a sub sticking from the top. "They were out of the large bags."

"That supposed to be an apology?" she asked, eyeing the sub with a suspicious glare.

"Something like that." Munch gave Alicia a friendly smile, and the younger woman smiled back, grateful for the act of kindness from a stranger. Jimmy and Chet were both dead, and it seemed to be because of her. She was trying to savor slices of goodness whenever she spotted them.

All of them paused when they saw a small black car drive up to the curb, parking in the fire lane. The driver's side door opened to reveal a young man with brown hair. He looked around twenty five or twenty six years old and his skin was strangely pale. Olivia found herself wondering if he spent a lot of time indoors. The young man glanced around restlessly for a moment, smiling when he saw Alicia. He obviously recognized her, but regarded the detectives warily as he approached.

"Hey, sis," he said, bending down to give her a hug. He was considerably taller than his older sister, and she stood on tip-toe to return the hug. After a moment, he let her go, but kept a protective arm around her shoulder. "Are these the detectives that are supposed to be helping you?" he asked, glancing suspiciously at Munch and Fin.

"That would be me," Olivia said, raising the sub in greeting since her hands were full. "My name is Detective Benson. I told Alicia it would be a good idea for you to check up on her over the next few days."

"Definitely," said Alicia's brother, and Olivia suddenly realized that he had not offered his name in return. "Come on, let's get out of here. I think you'll feel more comfortable at home with me."

Shooting Olivia one last look of thanks over her shoulder, Alicia allowed her brother to open the passenger's side door for her. As the black car pulled out of the fire lane, Olivia realized that Fin and Munch were staring at her. "What are you waiting for, some huge speech?" she asked. "I forgive you. Thanks for lunch." All three of the male detectives had been giving her strange looks all day when they thought she wasn't looking, and she was getting tired of it. She still had no idea how she was going to tell Alex that the squad had found them out thanks to her lack of judgment and Elliot's big mouth. _It would probably be a good idea to keep some of the details to myself..._

Trying to figure out the best way to explain herself, she unwrapped the end of her sub and took a large bite, glad that Fin and Munch had ordered for her enough times to know what she liked. "Elliot and I are going to go pester the crime scene techs, see if we can get them to speed up the evidence processing, she offered, turning away from the pair and heading back into the station. Behind her back, the remaining two detectives shared a long, serious look.

"She didn't even give him shit for pulling in to the fire lane," Fin pointed out, watching the retreating bumper of the car as it merged into traffic. "Something's wrong with that girl's head."

"She's got it bad," said Munch, scuffing one foot on the ground. "She has a dopey look on her face. I recognize it from all four times I got married."

"I still don't know how you convinced four separate women to marry your ass," Fin muttered, pulling out his own lunch.

"Is that a vegetable Panini?"

The former narcotics detective glared at his partner. "Ain't nothing wrong with a Panini."

"Yeah, if you're a twenty year old female college student."

"Shut up."


	4. Part Four

** Chapter Sixteen:**

The chirp of an incoming text message drew Olivia's attention away from her paperwork. Elliot and Munch, who were both still in the squad room, looked up in obvious curiosity as Olivia set down her pen, flipped open her phone, and began to read. Being detectives, they noticed the light flush that blossomed across her tanned cheeks right away. The corners of Elliot's lips twitched up in a smile and he felt a little guilty for teasing her earlier. It was nice to see Olivia excited about something that wasn't related to the job.

"You gonna leave on time today for once, Casanova?" Munch asked when Olivia began to put away the remaining paperwork on her desk. The glare that Olivia shot him was only a warning, but even Munch wasn't foolhardy enough to inquire further. Elliot groaned.

"Leave it alone, John," Elliot growled, feeling strangely protective of his partner's feelings. Sure, if Olivia was going to get herself entangled with their incredibly attractive former ADA, a little teasing was in order, but he didn't want any of them to cross the line and spook Olivia in to backing out of her fledgling relationship.

Relationship. The word felt strange on his tongue even though it remained unspoken. He had never thought of Olivia in the context of a relationship before. Usually, he thought of her 'associations' as disasters instead of relationships. He hoped that this... thing... with Alex was different. Olivia was certainly behaving differently than she usually did after meeting someone. Despite a few awkward moments, she was being surprisingly open about her personal life, which was a pretty drastic change.

"For your information, yes, I am leaving early. You and Elliot are catching tonight anyway." _Except a few weeks ago when we were figuring out rotation schedules, I was expecting to spend the night alone instead of in the company of the most gorgeous woman I know..._ The serious intensity behind the thought surprised her, and she felt decidedly uncomfortable even though she had not voiced her thoughts. Her feelings for Alex were getting serious fast, and it was pretty frightening. After a moment's consideration, she added, "I've got a hot date, but I'll be sure to pencil in a few moments of pity for you somewhere."

And just like that, both male detectives knew that Olivia had forgiven them for what had happened earlier that morning. Any further apologies or jokes were interrupted by the appearance of two long, well-shaped legs. They happened to be attached to an equally pleasing set of hips sporting a tight skirt, a skirt that was a few inches shorter than most of the others in Alex Cabot's wardrobe. Finally, a slightly dumbstruck Olivia remembered her manners and peeled her eyes away from Alex's very pleasing figure, focusing on her face instead. The blonde attorney was a little more done-up than usual and she was smiling.

Eventually, all three of them realized that Alex was also holding three brown paper bags in her hand. Slightly embarrassed that it had taken her so long to notice, Olivia gestured at the bags. "Want to tell me what's in those?" she asked, leaning her hip against the side of her desk.

Alex's smile grew wider. "Food. I hadn't dropped by in a while and I figured I would bring Fin, Munch, and Elliot some dinner."

"Score, Chinese! Thanks, Alex," Elliot said as she placed the bags on his desk. Munch hurried over to grab his portion. It really was a thoughtful gesture, even though he suspected it was mostly a peace offering and a bribe to Olivia's brothers in blue. Although they had not discussed it, her sudden departure had left the detectives of the 1-6 feeling a little betrayed.

"None for me?" Olivia asked, not looking terribly disappointed.

"Your dinner will have to wait a few minutes, since it's at my apartment." The statement was given confidently, but Olivia could sense Alex's underlying nervousness as the blonde studied her face intently, waiting for a reaction.

"You don't need to stake your claim, Alex," Olivia said, sounding surprisingly cheerful. "I've already embarrassed myself and possibly you by outing both of us this morning."

"So that's why you agreed to let me pick you up." Even though the conversation took place via text message, both of them had known that 'picking Olivia up' meant being open about their relationship with the rest of the squad. Alex gave her a curious look. "Do I want to know how that happened?"

Olivia blushed. "Probably not," she said, rubbing nervously at the back of her neck.

"Should I be worried?"

Munch tossed the attorney, whose eyebrows were arched dangerously over the frames of her glasses, an easy grin. "Nah," he said. "You brought us dinner. We will be the epitome of discretion, I assure you."

"Oh, a twenty-five cent word," Olivia teased, grabbing her purse, which was one of her few concessions to feminine apparel during work. Heels and skirts made chasing down perps difficult, although they looked very nice on Alex. _Sometime,_ the detective thought, _I'll really have to dress up for her and knock her socks off... She won't know what hit her._ Butterflies erupted in her stomach when Olivia realized that she had never actually looked forward to dressing up for someone before. In the past, it had just been an expected practice during dates, but she had never particularly enjoyed the experience.

"So, about dinner..."

Honestly, Olivia was surprised to find out that the attorney could cook. "I'm coming, but I didn't know you knew your way around a kitchen." She had always guessed that Alex had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but judging from the price tag that seemed to hang in the air over her car and her clothes, maybe the metal should be upgraded to gold or platinum.

"You'd be surprised what insurance adjustors have to learn," Alex said lightly, not offended by the incorrect assessment. She was used to it, and actually looked forward to correcting Olivia's assumptions about her. It meant that they were getting to know each other better. "I have many skills."

Watching Alex's lips as they formed the words, Olivia could not help remembering a few other skills that the attorney possessed. Silver spoon or not, the blonde definitely had a golden tongue, both when she spoke and when she... "You watch too many reruns of Xena," Olivia said, shifting her weight off of the desk and walking to the door. She was looking forward to dinner, but mostly what she suspected would come after.

"Hey, Alex," Elliot called after them before the pair could exit the bullpen, "a word?"

Olivia, still thinking about possible after-dinner activities that she and Alex might indulge in, did not protest when Alex tossed her the keys to the Lamborghini. "Go start her up," Alex said, giving Olivia a reassuring smile.

"Shall I crank up the bass for you?" Alex rolled her eyes. "You know he's going to grill you, right?" the detective added in a whisper, taking a step closer to her lover and touching her hand briefly with her fingertips.

Alex just shrugged. "He won't be satisfied until he warns me not to hurt his girl," she said. "I would rather have him do it now and be done with it. You know he'll pout and glare at me suspiciously for weeks otherwise."

With a reluctant sigh, the brunette took the keys and headed out the door. She did not like the idea of leaving her new lover alone with her partner, but Alex and Elliot had known (and argued with) each other for years. How much damage could either of them do?

"So, what did Olivia mean by cranking up the bass?" Elliot asked casually, popping a fresh piece of sweet and sour chicken in to his mouth. Stabler liked all things meat. If it had once been alive, he enjoyed eating it. Munch looked up from his noodles, interested to hear the response. To their surprise, Alex actually blushed.

"Um, nothing important..." _And Olivia had better not tell them, or I'll have to let slip that she actually watches reruns of Oprah and Dr. Phil, the cheating bastard..._

Deciding to let it slide, Elliot took another bite of his food. Once Olivia was safely out of earshot, however, he was all business. "If you hurt her, I'll hunt you down and rip your head off, Cabot. Olivia is... Olivia." Alex knew what he meant. Like a wife, sister, mother, and daughter all in one, Olivia was so much more than a coworker to Elliot.

"If I hurt her, I'll deserve it," Alex said. "I'm serious about this, but right now I'm focused on not scaring her away."

To her surprise, Elliot stood up and went to give her a hug, which she accepted with a certain degree of wariness. "She was a wreck after you died, you know. She cares. A lot. We all do." There was a pause. "You know, I have to give her a speech, too. If she hurts you, I have to rip her head off as well."

Surprised and more than a little flattered by Elliot's words and his easy acceptance of their relationship, she gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek, not even minding his slight five 'o clock shadow. The last thing she heard before she followed Olivia out of the door was Munch calling after her, "hey, Cabot, what do I have to do to get one of those?"

...

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Dinner was chicken parmesan with a green salad, garlic bread, and a very nice Chianti. Olivia was impressed and, after complimenting her thoroughly, even apologized for insinuating that she couldn't cook. The lawyer brushed off the comments with easy humor, a wide variation from her usual cold attitude. "Next time, I'll have to make you escargot instead," she said, dragging Olivia back into the bedroom with her while she changed out of her nice clothes.

Olivia went slightly pale and she stumbled a little as they walked down the hall. She wasn't a picky eater, but the idea of eating snails did not settle well in her stomach. "Uh, how did we get from Italian to French again?" she asked, avoiding the subject.

"Relax, Liv, I was just kidding... I don't know how to make escargot, and I don't like it either."

"Let's go with kalamari," Olivia said, offering an alternative.

Stepping out of her heels, Alex sat on the edge of her bed and began pulling down her stockings. "We just finished eating. Besides, I kind of had something else in mind for the rest of tonight," she said, and even though Alex was not looking at her, Olivia's skin burned. In less than half a second, she was standing between Alex's legs, her hands trailing along the newly bared skin of her thighs, raising the hem of her skirt. Alex gave her a wicked smile. "I suppose you're not going to give me the chance to change after all. Since you're so impatient, I might as well just strip..."

"I'll help," said Olivia, whispering the offer as she placed a soft kiss behind Alex's ear. As her hands made quick work of Alex's buttons, the blonde trailed a line of hot kisses down the side of Olivia's throat. "You know, I was thinking..." The detective paused as Alex pushed her shirt over her head, ruffling her hair.

"Well, stop," Alex said, lifting her arms slightly so that Olivia could reach through her open shirt and undo the clasp of her bra.

"I was thinking," Olivia repeated, reaching up to squeeze an inviting breast, "that there are some things we haven't tried yet."

Leaning in, Alex smiled against Olivia's lips as her fingers dipped beneath the edge of her slacks, drawing teasing circles over her abdomen. "Oh?" Instead of giving Olivia a chance to answer, she interrupted her with a full kiss.

Finally, Olivia managed to breathe out her answer. "I want to taste you..."

The resulting gasp was not only from arousal. The blonde had never particularly enjoyed this activity, perhaps because it made her slightly nervous and self-conscious. Only one of her male lovers had even tried, but the fumbling attempt was mercifully brief. Her female suite mate from law school, on whom Alex had perfected her own technique, reciprocated occasionally, but that relationship had ended badly, and there was always a veil of distrust between them.

_Don't think about them. Think of Olivia. No one else matters. Just Liv._

Alex trembled as Olivia eased her skirt down her thighs. "Oh god, you were wearing this all day while I was..." Olivia didn't bother to finish the sentence, stroking her through the silky material of her rather revealing underwear, which was a match for the bra. "Too bad they have to come off..." Trying to calm her fluttering stomach and slow her heart rate, Alex obligingly lifted her hips. "I'll have you through them some other night..."

Cheeks flushed, eyes closed, she was almost embarrassed by the brunette's intense scrutiny, the hot gaze that seemed to burn through her skin. No one had ever stared at her so intently before, melting the outer layers of ice and seeing directly into her soul.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked, immediately noticing that the usually confident attorney was on edge.

Alex's hand reached down to cup Olivia's cheek, wondering when she had gotten the chance to kneel. She certainly didn't remember, but Olivia's touches had been distracting. "Nothing important."

Sitting up on her knees, Olivia leaned forward. "It's okay," she said in the same moment that a persistent hand slid between Alex's legs. The blonde's thighs parted automatically, welcoming her touch. "I can't believe I didn't try this sooner, the first night... God, I've wanted to forever..."

"You don't have to... I mean, I don't..." _mind,_ Alex was about to say, but her confident voice petered out.

"No rush," Olivia murmured, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her inner thigh. "You just let me do it slow..."

"Olivia..." Alex's voice was faint, but whispering the detective's name wasn't exactly a 'no'.

"Alex?" Another light, barely-there kiss brushed over Alex's skin on the opposite side, but the light touch almost burned. She was breathing fast and her heart was racing, but she didn't push Olivia away.

Ever so slowly, the gentle petting became firmer, more focused. Alex's hips snapped up when fingertips circled her entrance, not penetrating her, never filling her, only driving her into a delicious frenzy.

Alex gasped again, this time in pleasure instead of protest, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes, unable to look down. "Don't worry about it, Alex," Olivia purred. "I promise to make you see stars." Although she had a breathtaking view of everything she was doing to Alex's body, her eyes remained on the blonde's face, greedily absorbing every twitch of the calm, composed expression that she was trying so hard to keep in place. _Poor baby. She really needs to relax. Really needs this._

"I don't know," Alex sighed, but it was not really a protest.

_Well, even if she isn't sure, her body is saying yes,_ Olivia thought, smiling in satisfaction as another pulse of Alex's wetness coated her hand, leaving it warm. "Since when does Alex Cabot not know something?" the detective teased, punctuating the sentence with a deliberate swipe of her thumb over Alex's clit.

Alex's hands almost reached for Olivia's hair, but she stopped them half way there and clutched the sheets instead. "Maybe – oh... maybe we could... tie my wrists..." _If she ties my wrists, I don't have to worry about enjoying it or not..._ In her pleasure-clouded mind, the idea seemed to make sense even though there was no logic behind it.

"Mm-mm. Not. This. Time," Olivia said, scattering more light kisses over Alex's inner thighs. "Maybe later," a sharp nip, "or you could tie mine," her tongue soothed the reddened skin, "but now..." Now, she wanted Alex to want her. Want her badly enough to forget her self-consciousness and discomfort. And if the way Alex's hips were moving was any indication, she was well on her way.

"Just – just... Olivia..."

Olivia knew those words might be the closest thing to a plea for mercy that she would get, but she couldn't resist teasing Alex a little more, taking her a little bit farther. "Say please," she whispered.

Her reward was another flood of wetness and heat and a soft, muffled 'Please'.

Feeling a little smug, she filed that information away for later and leaned in for a long, slow lick, savoring the sound of Alex's helpless whimpers. The blonde shifted, pressing harder against Olivia's mouth, forgetting her earlier reluctance. For one brief, blissful moment, pleasure smoothed the tight muscles in her face. As soon as she realized what she was doing, Alex froze, gripping the sheets harder.

Instead of being upset, Olivia saw it as a challenge. Pulling away, she admired the reaction she had caused in her lover. Alex was certainly in a state. Red, wet, swollen. It wouldn't take long to make her forget her worries...

For Alex, the next few minutes were slow, torturous stretches of shuddering pleasure. Olivia alternated between gentle kisses, flicks, and broad sweeps with the flat of her tongue. When her lips roamed higher, wrapping around her, pulling, lashing with the tip of her tongue, Alex's white fingers released the twisted sheets. One had shot up to her mouth, and she hardly noticed as she bit down on her fist to stifle a scream. The other hand found itself buried in Olivia's hair, pulling her closer, tighter... _Oh God, it was nothing like this, never like this..._

Olivia had never felt so powerful in her life. She had no idea why Alex was so hesitant about being touched, but as the blonde jerked against her tongue, the muscles in her thighs tensing, she decided it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but this. Alex. Loving her. Making her feel incredible.

When Alex let out a choked sob, Olivia knew that she was on the edge, the blurry line between ecstasy and pain. It would have been fun to prolong this, draw it out and really make Alex crazy, but the poor thing looked like she was almost in pain. "You need this bad, don't you, baby?" Olivia breathed, nuzzling her cheek against the soft skin of Alex's thigh. "Let go. For me. It's okay."

The abrupt stop almost brought her to tears, and it was all Alex could do to remove her fist and plead, "don't st- don't stop, don't..." When Olivia began again, using her fingers and tongue at the same time, Alex screamed, not even trying to cover the sound.

Her hand tightened in Olivia's hair as white streaks of light flared behind her eyes. Olivia had, as promised, made her see stars. Rippling with aftershocks, smooth inner muscles still clutching at the fingers that filled her, Olivia's reassuring voice was the first thing that Alex became aware of as her lover coaxed her back to earth.

"Shh. It's okay..." That. That was amazing. That was definitely happening at least once a day from now on. Hopefully more. "Now..." She gently removed her fingers, pulling back to kiss one of Alex's knees. "Breathe, baby. Close your eyes for a minute. I'll hold you."

Fulfilling her promise, Olivia pulled herself back onto the bed. Before she even got her head on the pillow, her arms were full of trembling, shuddering blonde. Alex's heartbeat, still strong and fast, pounded against her upper chest and shoulder. Still breathless from the intensity of her release, Alex took Olivia's mouth in a deep, slow, open-mouthed kiss. It was short, too short, but the need to breathe forced their mouths apart. Alex's head was still spinning. "I taste good on you," Alex sighed happily, kissing Olivia's chin.

The detective draped a possessive arm over Alex's bare hips, pulling her tight against her side. As soft blue eyes locked with hers, Olivia could feel a silent declaration of... something... pass between them. She wanted to, really wanted to, but somehow, the words 'I love you' stuck in Olivia's throat, curling in a tight ball and making her breath hitch. But it was all right, because Alex said them instead. They were the last words either of them spoke for a long time.

...

** Chapter Eighteen:**

"So, are you my girlfriend now?"

The question surprised Alex so much that she nearly choked on her eggs. After a few minutes of coughing, she looked up from her laptop (eating breakfast in front of her computer was a bad habit of hers) to see Olivia standing behind her in nothing but a t-shirt and panties.

Alex's t-shirt and panties.

_Damn, I guess I understand why guys find it sexy when girls wear their clothes,_ she thought once she caught her breath. She took a long gulp of her orange juice before responding. "Christ, can't you say "good morning" like regular people? And, um, I guess? The word 'girlfriend' sounds a little juvenile, but for all intents and purposes..."

Olivia smiled, leaning to peer over Alex's shoulder at the computer screen. "Whatcha working on? And is there any breakfast for me?"

"I was going to make you an omelet and bring it to you in bed once I finished my breakfast, but you ruined my romantic plans."

Olivia's smile grew wider and she bent down to rest her chin on Alex's shoulder, staring at the laptop. The attorney currently had four windows open. "Multi-tasker, huh? And why am I not surprised that you're a Mac girl?"

"I have a PC as well... can't let people think I'm an elitist." Abandoning her food and her computer, Alex stood up to give Olivia a proper good-morning kiss. Slow, unhurried, and full of affection, it had a different flavor than their passionate, needful kisses from the past few days. "Mmm... I love kissing you," Alex sighed, reluctantly pulling away from the detective. She had a feeling that another kiss like that would distract her from making breakfast. "I'll fix you that omelet if you want. We probably shouldn't start something we can't finish. You have to go to work."

"Can I mess around on your computer? Otherwise I'll just bother you some more, and that don't-start-something idea will go right out the window..."

Alex gave the wisps of hair at the back of Olivia's neck an affectionate tug and allowed her to sit down in the chair that she had vacated. "Sure, but don't do too much snooping."

While Alex wandered to the other side of the kitchen to make Olivia's breakfast, the detective went through the open windows on the attorney's computer. The first was Alex's e-mail inbox. Most of the correspondences seemed work related, but one from Abbie caught her eye, and she opened it after figuring out how to scroll and click with the unfamiliar Mac's keypad. "Oh jeez..."

Olivia's laughter made Alex turn around and frown in her direction. "What are you doing over there?"

"Reading the dirty joke Abbie sent you."

Alex turned back to the counter and rolled her eyes, cracking two eggs on the rim of a small bowl and grabbing a fork to break the yolks. "Well, I refuse to add her as my Facebook friend, so she has to bother me via e-mail. I never should have given her my work address."

That comment only made Olivia laugh harder. "_Alexandra Cabot _has a Facebook? Oh my God, I should have checked earlier! You have to be my friend!"

"No way."

Olivia glanced away from the computer long enough to give Alex her best pout, but the blonde remained facing away. "Why not? Since you're my _girlfriend_ now..."

"Because people use Facebook for two things: sharing embarrassing drunken pictures with friends or business networking. Think about what someone like you or Abbie probably uses their Facebook for, and then think about what _I_ probably use my Facebook for..."

"I don't have any drunken pictures," Olivia muttered. "I have some class. Besides, I'm a sex crimes detective... I know how easily information on the internet can be gathered, distributed, and manipulated. I'm very careful with what I share."

"If you pass the Petrovsky test, I'll friend you," Alex said, finally turning around with one hand on her hip.

"The Petrovsky test?"

"If there's anything on your profile you don't want Petrovsky to see, then you're not allowed."

This time, it was Olivia's turn to choke. "I'm not going to ask." She returned her attention to the computer. "Ooooh... I think someone likes fuzzy animal videos on Youtube! I never would have guessed, Counselor."

"I plead the fifth."

"Do you have a porn collection, too?"

Alex dropped the frying pan to the ground with a loud clatter. _"What?"_

"You heard me."

Slowly, Alex bent down to retrieve the frying pan, giving Olivia a very nice view. "That question doesn't even deserve an answer. And you are getting off of my computer _right now_ or I won't make you breakfast."

"Is that a threat or an offer for sex?" Olivia asked.

"Yes."

...

"Why, my stars, Alexandra Cabot, you look as well fucked as a housecat in heat that escaped out the window into the back alley," Abbie Carmichael purred, giving her friend a long, slow perusal through the video connection. Instead of responding with her usual scowl, Alex actually laughed, a full, throaty laugh that tilted her head back and revealed an uncharacteristically broad smile.

"All right, I _know_ you made that one up."

Abbie was unrepentant. "Guilty. Now, tell me! I want details, woman! What else are sexually promiscuous female friends for?"

Alex studied her for a moment, considering her words. "I am completely and helplessly in love," she sighed, straightening the frames of her glasses in an attempt to look more professional. She might have managed to pull it off if she had not been sporting several prominent hickeys above the collar of the t-shirt Olivia had left behind. Abbie was surprised at the openness with which the blonde discussed her situation. Even though they were friends, Alex was a private person by nature, hesitant about sharing her feelings.

Knowing that Alex was a little uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Abbie made a U-turn. "That bad, huh? I was talking about the sex, but it's great to hear you're in love, too, I guess."

Alex stuck out her tongue and Abbie responded with a rude gesture. "Oh lord, we're acting like a bunch of 5 year olds, aren't we?" Alex said, automatically checking to make sure that no one was watching her even though she was safe in the privacy of her own apartment. She had a reputation to uphold.

"Five year olds don't talk about sex."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "You were probably playing doctor at five."

Abbie smiled, gazing absently into space as though revisiting a lost memory. "I have always been _very_ good at talking girls out of their clothes." After a moment, her eyes regained their sharp focus. "So, have you let the poor woman have a turn yet, or were your cheeks glued to those lean, sexy thighs for the past three days?"

That did make Alex blush, further upsetting her already shaky composure. "Abbie Carmichael, that kind of comment is exactly why I refuse to partake in more than one alcoholic beverage around you."

Abbie shrugged. "I always make the girls come back. Most make return visits for the amazing sex, but you keep coming back for the inappropriate commentary."

"Jack McCoy has no idea what a dedicated professional and sparkling wit he lost when the Feds snatched you up," Alex said dryly.

"Jack can't comment. He fucked almost all of his second chairs, not including me and Serena... You know, even with all the women in the DA's office I've had, I don't think a single man in that courthouse knows I prefer chicks over dicks. They are so oblivious... So, who is Jack's new tail at the moment? I'm sure Manhattan's illustrious DA hasn't stopped yet. A leopard never changes his spots."

"Well, the ADA that replaced him is a _man_ named Michael." Both of them laughed. "Actually, his second chair is kind of a babe. Her name is Connie Rubirosa."

"Available?"

"Straight, I think."

"They never stay straight for long when I'm in the room. I should plan a visit to New York. Maybe I can tell Jack I slept with more girls in the DA's office than he did now that I don't see him in court every day. The man is actually a very talented doodler, did you know? I might still have one of his legal pads that I filched. You should see the caricature he did of Rubenstein!"

"Abs," Alex protested, knowing how much the shortened version of her name irritated the dark haired, dark eyed prosecutor, "he's my boss, _please_ stop talking about him like that... I won't be able to hold a straight face the next time I see him."

"Lex, honey," Abbie said, responding in kind, "you are definitely not straight."

Alex was unable to hide her blush. "Don't call me that."

"You started it. You can dish it out, but you can't take it?" The Texan paused, taking in a breath to begin another inappropriate monologue, but decided better of it at the last moment. "Wait, dark, butch, and fabulous calls you that in bed, doesn't she? I knew it!"

Alex banged her head against the table. Actually, Olivia had used several terms of endearment over the past few days, and even a few profanities (although never as names for Alex). She usually hated further contractions of her nickname, one that she had shared with her father growing up, but from Olivia, it was endearing and almost intimate. From Abbie, however...

"Abbie," she growled, giving her friend a warning glare.

"I promise not to call you Lex-"

"Or Lexi."

"-Or Lexi."

"Or anything besides Alex, especially something inappropriate-"

"Or anything inappropriate," Abbie repeated, "_if_ you do me a favor."

Alex's eyes narrowed. This was too easy. Her friend was up to something. "What kind of favor?" she asked suspiciously. "If it's a sexual favor, absolutely not."

"Well, it sort of is – but not from you. As gorgeous as you are, _Alex,_ you are not the only blonde in Manhattan." She paused, letting Alex absorb the significance of her silence.

Finally, it clicked. "Abbie, no," Alex said, sounding almost disappointed. "That poor girl has been through enough heartache because of you. Better to let sleeping dogs lie." Alex resisted the urge to clap her hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Although that phrase wasn't a southern colloquialism, it was still a colloquialism. _Dammit, she's rubbing off on me. I need to read more of the classics to purge Abbie from my brain. Maybe some of the Romantic poets._

"I want to see her," Abbie argued, prepared to fight her case. Alex got the impression that Abbie had been planning this request for a long time, although she could not fathom why. "It's been three years and I still think about her."

"You broke Serena's heart."

"I never made any promises–"

"She thought you did."

For a moment, something that looked almost like guilt flashed across Abbie's face. "I know," she said, her voice soft. "Listen, I just want to see her. Maybe, you know, apologize for being an ass? Maybe then I can..." She left the sentence unfinished. For once, Alex wondered if the unspoken words might not have anything to do with sex.

"I'll think about it," Alex said finally. "I do see her occasionally. I could pass along a message."

...

** Chapter Nineteen:**

The rest of the day found both women reverting back to their usual personalities. Alex, determined not to let her new relationship soften her, returned to work with gusto. She was only taking a leave of absence in order to share her services with the international community. An extended vacation was not what she had signed up for. She spent her day taking conference calls, making travel arrangements, reading up on the area and situations that she would soon be encountering, and filling out the seemingly endless supply of paperwork provided by her superiors.

Her first break came in the form of a text message from Abbie. As always, the Texan was very blunt: _Called Serena yet?_ Deciding to make the gun-toting prosecutor sweat it out for a while, Alex deliberately chose not to text her back. If Carmichael was going to be impatient, that was her problem.

Her second break was a phone call from her Uncle, during which she subtly deflected questions about what she had been doing with herself recently. She had a feeling that 'having the most amazing sex of my life' was not an appropriate answer. Grudgingly accepting a dinner invitation before she left for parts unknown, she finally ended the call. _Too bad,_ she thought once her doting Uncle Bill's familial concern had been appeased, at least temporarily. _The one person I want to talk to is the same person I promised not to smother. _

With a sigh that she instantly regretted, Alex shook out a muscle cramp in her right hand, the result of far too many official signatures. Gingerly, she rolled her shoulderblades, trying to ease the tension in her upper back. Finding that her own focus had deserted her for the moment, Alex decided to text Abbie back after all. Scrolling through her contacts and pulling up the keyboard on her phone, she stopped at another familiar number under 'B'. _No. No calling Olivia._ Passing 'Carmichael' as well, she continued through the alphabetical list (Alex liked to keep everything alphabetical. The alphabet was organized, like her) until she reached the letter 'S'. Right above 'Stabler, Elliot' was the name she had been searching for. She pressed talk and waited as the phone began to ring.

"Serena? Hi, it's Alex... No, nothing much..." _What a lie that is,_ she thought as she answered Serena's friendly inquiries about her recent activities. "Actually, I had something I wanted to tell you... no, it's not about Abbie. No, she's not..." Another lie, as Alex tried to convince Serena that Abbie was not the reason for her call. _Serena and I are still friends. Friends do things together. I'll ask her to have dinner tomorrow so I can tell her about Olivia. If Serena doesn't seem like she can handle news about Abbie, well, screw Abbie. Carmichael will just have to bite one of those bullets she's always packing in her purse and call herself. _

Her guilt slightly assuaged by the silent promise to put Serena's wellbeing first, Alex continued talking into the phone. "No, really, I promise," she said, crossing her fingers. "Actually, this has more to do with my romantic life... Yes? – Yeah, actually..." _Why does balancing friendships with two exes have to be so difficult? I feel like I'm guest starring in The L Word. _Why_ on earth did I have to become a lesbian?_ Mental images of Olivia (sans clothing) quickly answered that question for her.

"Okay. So, I was thinking dinner..."

...

Meanwhile, Olivia was holding up surprisingly well at work. In fact, her ability to focus had improved. She decided that pining away after an unattainable woman (and then trying to deny that she was pining at all) was very tiring. Now that she and Alex had reached an understanding, she felt lighter, armed and ready to take on anything that the city of New York could throw at her.

All three of the boys were surprised and pleased by her newfound enthusiasm. They all reached points of burnout in a job like theirs, but the tired, wan Olivia of the past several weeks was gone, and in her place was the Olivia of perhaps seven years ago, the Olivia with a determined set to her jaw, a cocky attitude, and an equally cocky smile. The only difference was the longer hair.

Deciding to take advantage of his partner's energy, Elliot not-so-subtly suggested that she should go down and check on their DNA results. This left him to deal with Marlowe, who wanted to prep him for court the next day and was having a lot of fun at Olivia's expense on her breaks. Elliot, still feeling remorseful for revealing the name of her not-so-secret lover, had threatened Munch and Fin with bodily harm if they did not stop teasing her about Alex, but Marlowe had no such threat hanging over her head, and Olivia was eager to duck out of the line of fire.

"Dammit, that woman could give Carmichael a run for her money. If I find out which one of them told her, I'll kill them, and if it was Elliot, I'll kill him twice," she muttered to herself as she prepared for a dramatic entrance to the morgue. The lab rats still had not finished with the DNA at the second crime scene, and she wanted a word with whichever of Melinda's young pups had delayed their evidence. Despite her colleagues' gentle ribbing, she still had to concentrate in order to remove the smile from her face and replace it with a threatening grimace. Readying herself, the line of her shoulders lifting like the hackles on a fighting dog, she pushed both doors open with a loud bang and charged in.

"Listen, kid, I don't know how you do things when Warner's not here, but in this precinct, we –" She stopped cold in the middle of her speech when a familiar face looked up from the autopsy table, her scrubs not hiding a slight frown.

"Gloves, Olivia!" Melinda Warner commanded, pointing to the cleaning station. Going through the familiar routine as fast as possible, Olivia disinfected herself and covered up, hurrying over to give the returning medical examiner a tight hug. Fortunately, Melinda was prepared for this and had reached a pausing point in her work. She accepted Olivia's embrace and returned it fondly.

"Melinda! I'm so glad you're back," said Olivia, her previous annoyance completely forgotten. The 1-6 had not been the same without the injured medical examiner.

Melinda smiled. "Me, too. Now, you be quiet for a minute, because I have a couple of things to say to you. One, thanks again for saving my life."

"Melinda..."

"I'm not finished." The medical examiner plowed on, knowing that Olivia was probably embarrassed by the continued reference to her heroic actions. She had already been thanked multiple times by multiple people, including herself, and Melinda knew that the detective was uncomfortable with the attention. "Two, the DNA you want is coming. The sample was contaminated, so there's no need to chew out any of my assistants for messing up the evidence gathering. Three, congratulations on your new relationship. It's about time."

Olivia groaned. "Who told you? I'm going to-"

"No one told me," Melinda laughed. "You're wearing one of Alexandra's favorite shirts." The marks on her neck, which had been unsuccessfully covered with makeup, did not bear mentioning.

Glaring at her shoes, Olivia fought valiantly against the blush threatening to burn across her cheeks. Fortunately, her complexion made it slightly easier to hide. _Dammit, why didn't Alex tell me? Why didn't anyone at work tell me? _She cursed Elliot, Munch, and Fin for keeping the information from her. Either they were waiting for her to embarrass herself, or they were afraid of her reaction.

"Great," she muttered, trying to remember how many people had seen her without her jacket so far that morning. The Captain definitely had...

"I do have good news for you, though, detective."

Olivia sighed, forcing herself to meet Melinda's eyes again. Years of interrogation experience paid off, and her carefully schooled features showed no more outward signs of discomfort. "Yeah? What have you got for me, doc?"

"The DNA on your second vic, Laraway, is still being processed, but at least part of the sample matches the skin cells under the nails and the semen from your first body. They're keeping the second sample for more testing, but I convinced them to send you the first half of the report anyway, even though it's unfinished. It should be arriving at your desk as we speak."

"So I came down here for nothing?"

"I'm glad you think saying hello to me is nothing," Melinda teased.

"I didn't know you were back," Olivia said, keeping her voice softer this time. "You were missed, and not just by all the frozen bodies waiting for you in here." Before she left, she made sure to give the medical examiner another welcome-back hug, but not before making a mental note to keep her jacket on for the rest of the day. Now that the preliminaries were over with and her fellow detectives had enough information to tease her with for the next decade, she was eager for things to get back to normal at work.

_Not that any part of my life could ever be classified as normal, especially work,_ she thought as her cell phone and pager went off at the same moment.

...

** Chapter Twenty:**

"Benson, Stabler, my office, let's go," Captain Cragen said with little preamble, leaving both detectives to follow him through the partially open door. Olivia, who had half-sprinted from the morgue after receiving Cragen's page, was not out of breath, but her heart rate was slightly elevated. It spiked even further when she realized that she was not wearing her leather jacket, leaving Alex's shirt on prominent display. If the Captain noticed, he made no comment. Instead, he got straight down to business.

With a frown, he dropped a folded newspaper on top of his desk, turning it so that they could see the open page. "The media vultures have got a hold of this," he said, pointing to a very grainy photograph of several crime scene technicians hurrying about their work like busy ants. There was no clear shot of the body, Olivia decided after a brief skim of the photographs, but it still made her uncomfortable. "Where are we on this?"

"Not much," Elliot admitted reluctantly. "The report isn't complete on the second vic because of some kind of irregularity, but the DNA results confirm that the same perp killed both men. We think it's because they both had a relationship with the same woman, Alicia St. Michael."

"I've got a list of her previous boyfriends and some other acquaintances," Olivia added helpfully, trying to sound optimistic. "El and I were going to do background checks on them today, maybe ask Huang if any of them are likely to be targeted next. That could help us determine who and when to interrogate."

"Well, whatever you do, do it fast. The press is calling this guy a serial killer, and when we're at loose ends, my superiors and our friends over at the DA's office get antsy."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Technically, you need three separate vics at different times and locations to dub anyone a serial killer. The press watches too much TV."

"If that's your idea of a sound bite for the press, Olivia, I've got to say, it's a pretty shitty one," Cragen said, frowning at her.

"He could be a serial killer for all we know," Elliot pointed out. "He might have killed before. He might be planning to again." Olivia did not disagree. She thought that they were after a serial killer too, but felt like being argumentative.

"I just wanted to let you know what was happening," the Captain continued. "I have confidence in both of you, but I don't want the press finding any new leads before we do, either. Be prepared for tails and don't talk to anyone."

_Tails... wait a minute._ "Hey, who is the author of that story?" Olivia asked, picking up the newspaper that was still lying on Cragen's desk. This time, she took a moment to read some of the article.

** Serial Killer Stalks Chelsea**

_ Confidential sources say that a "dangerous serial killer" has attacked two men in the Chelsea area in the past week and a half. Both victims, who were found on their front steps, showed signs of sexual assault and suffered blows to the back of the head. _

Olivia paused to roll her eyes. Sexual assault? The guys were murdered, sodomized, and had their penises removed. The somewhat 'tame' description surprised her, and she wondered how much information the newspaper's staff really had about the killings.

_ The first victim, James Preston, was found on September 3rd at 5:00 AM when a neighbor called the local police department following..._

Olivia skipped ahead, letting her eyes scan down the next few paragraphs until another familiar name caught her eye.

_ Both Laraway and Preston are acquaintances of Alicia St. Michael, a dental hygienist who declined to comment-_

"Fuck," Olivia blurted out, "one of the creeps got to her. With her name in the article, she could be in even more danger. El, we've got to check on her and talk to this reporter guy. She glanced back down at the paper long enough to memorize the name at the end of the article: _Stephen Johnson, investigative reporter._

"Why don't you give your old boyfriend a call? I forget his name..." Elliot asked. "Ask who this Johnson guy is."

Olivia wrinkled her nose at the mention of Kurt Moss, one of her several tragic attempts at a relationship during a particularly unstable period in her life. Their awkward courtship had not been great to begin with, although there was nothing wrong with Kurt, really – making him sign the affidavit in order to clear her name after the "outing" scandal had certainly not helped, but her assault at Sealview had been the last straw. They remained cordial, although not quite friendly.

_And the sex with Alex blows him out of the water,_ she added silently to herself. She paused, realizing for the first time just how lucky she was from an outside perspective. _Wow. How the hell did I end up with an incredibly smart, gorgeous, rich blonde? Isn't that, like, the ultimate dating fantasy?_

Dismissing the thoughts as unimportant, she decided to suck it up and give Moss a call. It couldn't hurt. "Sure," she told Elliot. When Cragen frowned at her, she added, "don't look at me like that, Dad, I'm not giving him anything. One article is bad enough. I just hope this is one killer who doesn't enjoy playing with the press."

With a shared set of nods acting as a nonverbal goodbye, the detectives knew that they were excused and headed out of the precinct, narrowly avoiding Fin, who was bringing in a witness for one of his own cases. The walk to the car seemed to take no time at all.

"Do you want to split up, or do this together?" Elliot asked as he took his usual seat behind the steering wheel. Even though she was a capable driver herself, and had passed the Academy's vehicular obstacle course with flying colors, Olivia had learned long ago to let Elliot do the work. If he wasn't allowed to steer, he became a horrible back-seat driver and pouted for the entire ride. Dealing with his childish attitude wasn't worth it.

"Together," she said. "Let's talk to this Johnson guy first. I'll give Alicia a call on the way. I have her contact info. I want to make sure that there aren't a bunch of reporters camped outside her door."

"You told me she mentioned a stalker," Elliot added. "Maybe it was just a news hound?"

Olivia shrugged, automatically reaching for the cup of coffee sitting between them in the cup holder before realizing (with more than a little disappointment) that it was cold, stale, and had been Elliot's back when it was drinkable.

Elliot continued theorizing to himself as they navigated the daily city traffic. "If he looks suspicious, we can always ask for some DNA."

"He won't give it. Reporters are all about quoting their constitutional rights."

"Well..." Stabler gave his partner a sidelong glance, which Olivia pointedly ignored. "You could always..."

"Ew, no. Why do you always ask me to do that, you pig? I'm not going to flirt with every suspect we question in order to get information or DNA. Besides, this guy isn't even a suspect yet, just a random reporter who happened to write a story on the case we're trying to close. For all we know, he could be seventy years old, or confined to a wheelchair, or maybe he was on vacation in Cancun during the night of both crimes."

"And seventy year olds can't commit crimes?"

"That's not the point. Besides, if you didn't think he had something to tell us, we wouldn't be driving over to see him."

Tired of arguing with Elliot, Olivia searched desperately for a distraction, eventually settling on checking her cell messages. There were none from Alex, which disappointed her for a moment. _Pull yourself together. You're at work. Stop being so needy._ But still... she sort of wished the attorney had texted or called her...

Later, when she thought about it, Olivia realized that it was probably the first time she had ever truly been hoping for a phone call in her life.


	5. Part Five

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

"H-hello? Ohhh, Alex..." Abbie Carmichael moaned in to her cell phone's mouthpiece, easing her head back onto the arm of her couch and draping her forearm across her closed eyes. "Now's not a good time..."

There was complete silence on the other end of the connection. Then, finally, an accusatory voice asked, "Abbie Carmichael, if you answered my call while getting head or getting yourself off, I swear on all that's holy I'll..." she left the threat unfinished, unable to think of a suitable punishment. "I know you get a kick out of embarrassing me, but that's taking things way too far."

Abbie started to respond, but the words caught in her dry throat as she gasped for breath and tried to calm her fluttering stomach. Alex heard the strangled sob and continued her tirade. "Abbie! You are _unbelievable!_ I mean, we've all been interrupted by a phone call, but for God's sake, you're supposed to stop or not answer it!" Later, Alex would recover from her selective amnesia and remember two occasions when she had undressed and teased Olivia while the gorgeous detective was on the phone with her partner, but they were far from her mind in the heat of the moment. "You have ten seconds to convince me not to hang up on you."

Despite her friend's clipped, accusatory tone, the dark-haired attorney laughed, instantly regretting that decision when her head started to swim. "Good to know you think so well of me, Cabot. No... sick as a dog... wish I was – getting head instead... Ohhh God. I want to die. Did you... call Serena?"

"We're having dinner tomorrow," Alex said, sounding much less annoyed. In fact, Abbie thought as the blonde's words penetrated the fuzzy layer of pain that surrounded her consciousness, she sounded almost apologetic. "Abbie, you're sick. Don't worry about Serena."

"Alex," Abbie slurred, squinting up at her apartment's ceiling lights and wishing she had the strength to get up off the couch and turn them off. "Thanks... I'm really – really... not having sex. Double promise cross-my-heart."

"Double promise cross-your-heart?" Alex repeated skeptically. If Abbie was spouting out strange phrases like that, perhaps she really was sick.

"While you were getting some courtesy of the looovely detective Benson this week, I've been abstaining." Although the words were clearer, Alex detected a certain scratchiness to Abbie's voice, and finally started to believe that her friend was telling the truth... until her last word registered.

"Abstaining?" Then again, "abstaining? Abbie, what are you talking about?"

"You think I can't go without it for a week? I've been busy."

"You've gone crazy is more likely," Alex muttered, but she was not in the mood to ferret information out of her very sick friend. "_If_ you are better, I'll call you tomorrow night and tell you about dinner with Serena. And if you _stay_ better, you can sleep at my apartment when you take the train up here to visit."

Abbie pouted. "You wouldn't let me sleep there if I was sick? Some friend you are."

"If you were still sick after that long, I would insist you stay in DC, charter a jet or car service and come down there to knock some sense into you and get you to a hospital."

"Too good for the train, huh?"  
"I'm hanging up now. For God's sake, get some rest, Carmichael, and try not to die from the flu, your cold, or lack of sex... whatever ailment you're suffering from."

"Yeah, I love you, too," Abbie mumbled, throwing the phone over the back of the couch and trying once again to block the distracting ceiling lights with her hand. _Oh well,_ she thought before drifting into a feverish sleep, _maybe I'll look so haggard during my trip that Serena will feel sorry for me instead of kicking my fine ass two ways from next Sunday._

...

"So, how do you wanna play this?" Elliot whispered discreetly to his partner as they waited outside the office of one Stephen Johnson. He was 'out' at the moment, they were told, but expected back any minute, and so they had decided to stay put. "Good cop, bad cop? Basic Reid?"

Olivia shrugged. "Dunno. I say we let him run his mouth until he trips over himself. You know how these reporter types are."

It went against the basic rules of interrogation, but since this was technically only a friendly round of questioning, Elliot shrugged his agreement. "So," he said, changing the subject abruptly, "how's Alex?"

"Things haven't changed since yesterday evening, El," Olivia said brusquely. "I feel like I've entered the Twilight Zone, the part before all the bad shit happens. She's still amazing and perfect. I'm still terrified that everything's going to fall apart somehow."

"Even Cabot has to have a human side," Elliot insisted, purposefully ignoring the negative parts of Olivia's little monologue.

"Well, she has a facebook, and she implied that she is friends with Petrovsky."

Elliot shuddered. "Now _that_ woman isn't human... I didn't know they were letting alien pod people or animatronic judges make facebooks."

Olivia groaned. "You're starting to sound like Munch."

"Aw, c'mon. You aren't going to give me any more details about what our long-lost ADA is like in private?"

The brunette gave her partner a withering look. "Elliot, if you ever ask me about what Alex is like in bed again, I _will_ hit you."

Elliot held up his hands in self-defense. "Woah woah woah, I don't need to know _those_ details! I meant proof that she isn't a very attractive robot like Petrovsky."

Her brief flare of anger subsiding, Olivia reassured Stabler with a grin. "You think Petrovsky's attractive?" she teased.

"Noooo... a robot! I meant a robot!"

"Sure you did, Elliot. Sure you did. You owe me big, or I'm telling Kathy you said that. Anyway, Alex can make a mean chicken Parmesan, and her taste in music is a little," she paused, searching for the right word, "unexpected."

Before Olivia could reveal that Alex knew all of Eminem's discography ("I don't care if some people say he's a poser, his lyrics are insightful!") and could sing along pretty convincingly with almost every Beyoncé hit (her current favorite was 'Video Phone', which Olivia had caught her listening to on repeat), a rather thin, pimple-faced man walked purposefully towards the two detectives.

"Hello, detectives," he said, and Olivia had to suppress a surprised reaction to the low, silky timbre of his voice. Despite his awkward, almost juvenile appearance, he sounded like some kind of old-time actor or radio star. The words coming out of his mouth certainly did not match the rest of the package. "I understand that you have been waiting for me?"

"Detectives Benson and Stabler," Elliot said, standing up and giving the guy a flash of his badge. "We have a few questions about an article you published in today's paper." Olivia caught the gleam of interest in the reporter's eyes and tried not to smile. Once again, her intuition had proved correct. _Yep, this guy is gonna be more than willing to talk to us in hopes of a new story._

...

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

Instantly picking up on the fact that Johnson's attention was mostly focused on Elliot, Olivia made a split-second decision. Pretending to feel her phone vibrating in her pocket, she flipped it open and stared at the empty screen. After a moment, she closed it and turned towards her partner. "I've got to make a call," she said, giving Elliot a pointed look.

Instantly, Elliot realized what Olivia was asking. They had used this trick before during interrogations. Send in whichever detective the suspect seemed to relate to more alone first, allowing the other to charge in and play bad cop a few minutes later. As a variation on Reid and an intimidation tactic, it worked surprisingly well. "That's fine. Why don't Mr. Johnson and I step inside his office and chat for a minute. You don't mind, right?"

"Of course not. Come in, Detective Stabler."

_That guy looks positively hungry,_ Olivia thought to herself, a little disgusted. _Either he's seriously crushing on Elliot _(she shuddered at that thought)_ he has a hard-on for a new story, or he's guilty and likes sizing up buff guys for his next kill._

Watching the retreating form of her partner, she wondered if her instincts were leading her wrong this time. Even if pimple-face was about half Elliot's size, he might have some kind of weapon tucked away in his office... _And Elliot has a gun and police training,_ she reminded herself. _He can handle himself for two minutes._ Quashing down her protective feelings for him, Olivia flipped open her cell phone again and used her history to dial an increasingly familiar number.

After a three rings, the person on the other end picked up. "Hello?"

"Ms. St. Michael? This is Detective Benson from the 1-6."

"Thank goodness you called, they're ruining my garden," the younger woman complained, her voice shaking. "Of course, that doesn't really matter, but... I mean, with the feelings I've been having – someone following me... having all of those reporters outside is just-"

"Calm down, Alicia," Olivia said, instantly adding a soothing quality to her voice. "Are they actually trespassing on your property? Have any of them tried to get in to the house?"

Alicia paused, and Olivia heard the distinctive sound of someone raising the shades. "No," she said, "they're staying on the street..."

_Damn it,_ the brunette cursed inwardly. "Listen, do you have someone with you?"

"My brother. Thank God, I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't here..."

"Good. Stay inside the house with him. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can do anything about the reporters. Give me an hour or two and I'll call you back."

"Thank you," Alicia said, sounding pathetically grateful. Olivia said goodbye and hung up, not looking forward to the rest of the day. She knew that as long as the reporters stayed a legal distance away from Alicia's house, there was very little she could do, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her cell back into her pocket and squared her shoulders, preparing to make her dramatic entrance.

...

The room was surprisingly cluttered, and although Olivia's outward expression remained intimidating, her heart softened as she was reminded of Alex's old office at the courthouse. Her desk veered between obsessively neat and messy every few hours. Alex preferred to keep everything tidy, but the sheer volume of work she was required to do as their ADA prevented order from reigning for too long. _And I've had quite a few fantasies about having her in that office..._

Redirecting the sudden burst of sexual energy into aggression, she gave the wannabe radio jockey her most terrifying glare. Alex's chilling blue eyes could be dangerous weapons when she turned them on an opponent, but Olivia knew a thing or two about facial expressions herself. "So, did you get anything useful out of him?" she asked Elliot, ignoring Johnson apart from another look of disgust.

Elliot shrugged. "I think we're wasting our time here," he said. "Stephen here was just telling me that he got most of his information by listening to the police scanner..."

"Bullshit," Olivia snarled, still ignoring Johnson. "That sounds like a bad crime drama on Lifetime." The corners of her lips twitched. She usually played Good Cop to Elliot's Bad Cop, unless their perp had a problem with female authority figures. Switching roles for a change was refreshing. Being the go-to girl for victims and grieving family members was often emotionally exhausting, but tearing in to a possible suspect could be fun.

Finally, she acknowledged the reporter, who was listening to their conversation with unconcealed interest. "Listen, I don't like you," she said, pointing a threatening finger at the center of his thin chest. "You've already managed to start fucking up our investigation, and to be perfectly honest, I'm suspicious about your motives."

"Hey, like I was just telling your partner, I'm just a reporter. This is my job, Detective... Benson, right?"

Olivia fervently hoped that her name would not end up in print because of this, but she had a bad feeling that her luck was not going to hold. _Dad is going to kill me if they start doing more articles on our squad... we've had enough media fuck-ups over the past decade._

"A reporter with an unhealthy interest in something that is honestly none of your damn business."

"Having a serial killer on the loose is most certainly the public's business."

"You mean it's your stockholders' business. Maybe if your superiors stopped sucking their shareholders' dicks and whoring their paper out with gruesome stories, we might actually solve some cases-"

Elliot put a large, solid hand on Olivia's shoulder, pretending to calm her down. "Hey, don't get your panties in a twist," he whispered, watching as the reporter read his lips. He had suspected that a disciple of the media would have some experience with that particular skill set. "I don't think this is our guy."

"But-"

"Listen, Mr. Johnson, I apologize for interrupting your workday. We've just got some complaints that a man matching your description has been seen around the crime scenes... following some of the people involved in our case..." Elliot lied smoothly, watching for a reaction on the reporter's face. "Someone here," he gave Olivia a nudge that looked more painful than it was, "obviously needs a donut or some coffee."

"It's past noon," Olivia muttered darkly, using a wider stance and positioning herself closer to the reporter, who looked so excited that he might have passed for a three month old puppy. _Just don't pee on the floor, Fido,_ Olivia thought. _This guy might have the deep, smooth voice, but a Clark Gable look-alike he isn't._

"If you could just tell us-"

"Where I was the night of the crime?" he asked eagerly.

"If you think I'll believe anything you say," Olivia growled.

"I keep very meticulous records. I was actually at work before the second scene, and my editor, my boss, and one of my photographers can verify it."

Olivia pretended to look disappointed. "We'll be checking on that," she said, and made a rather dramatic exit after throwing him one last suspicious glance over her shoulder. "Hurry up, Stabler. Move your ass."

Less than a minute later, Elliot followed her back into the hall. "Sucking their shareholders' dicks?" he asked, amused.

Olivia grinned. "I can't let you have all the fun."

"Well, aside from taking unnatural delight in printing stories about other people's misfortune and looking like he lives in his mother's basement playing video games, I think he's clean. How about if you go flirt with these so-called alibi witnesses? Ronald Jenkins is the photographer that was with Johnson most of the night."

"I think I'll pass," Olivia said, suddenly a lot less good-humored. "I'm pulling the dyke card."

"But you're not a dyke," Elliot argued. He was not sure if Olivia had seen it, but he distinctly remembered passing a picture of a fat, balding man with sweat stains near the entrance to the building labeled 'Ronald Jenkins – Photographer of the Month'.

His partner gave him a look. "Um, hello? You've been teasing me about my "thing" with Alex non-stop for the past several days. Now you say I'm not gay? Make up your mind."

"That proves nothing. Have you _seen_ Alex? She's attractive enough that you could be straight and still want to do h- _date _her... Besides, you said you were a switch-hitter."

"Right now, the only guy I want to talk to is Cragen. I called Alicia while you were in there with your new boyfriend and she's got newshounds camped outside her house. Sounds like they're staying the legal distance, but I thought I'd have a word with Dad about it anyway, see if there's something I can do..."

Elliot sighed. It looked like he had a date with the balding, middle-aged Ronald Jenkins. He hoped the sweat-stains in the picture were distortions from the glass covering. "Fine, fine, you're a regular Ellen. Get out of here."

Feeling very pleased with herself, Olivia headed for the nearest exit. Deciding that another dramatic exit was in order, she tossed one last, casual comment over her shoulder. "Keep the car. I'll walk and pick up lunch. And by the way... yes, I have seen Alex. Every. Glorious. Inch. Of her." Still smirking, she left her partner to pick his jaw up off the floor.

...

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

Cautiously, Olivia stepped in to Alex's apartment, a little disconcerted to find the door open. There had been no answer to her knocking, but the text message on her phone was very clear: _If you're free, come over tonight. I have plans for you._ Olivia felt her throat go dry as she wondered for the hundredth time what those plans might be. She knew better than to disobey a command from the formidable Alex Cabot, though, and so here she was.

"Alex?" she called out, looking around in case the blonde came in from one of the adjoining rooms. Her stomach rumbled and Olivia glanced toward the kitchen, remembering the way Alex had pampered her with food and affection over the past few days. "What happened to charming, seductive Olivia?" she said to herself, wrinkling her nose with distaste. "I'm going to do something really, really nice." As she closed the door behind her and stepped further into the apartment, she heard the sound of the shower running, along with something much more interesting...

"_Dies irae, dies illa... solvet saeclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla..."_

Olivia bit her lower lip to stifle a laugh. Alex? Singing in the shower? No one from the squad room or the DA's office would ever believe her if she told them. It was just such a... normal... thing to do, even if the fact that it was in Latin was a little out of the ordinary. Driven by thoughts of a wet, nubile, naked Alex in the shower, Olivia hurried into the master bedroom.

_"Soulja Boy off in this hoe, watch me crank it watch me roll-"_

The brunette detective nearly fell over in surprise. "She is not_..."_ Determined to observe from a closer vantage point, she crept up to the bathroom door and pressed her ear against it, listening.

_ "Watch me crank dat Soulja Boy and Superman that hoe..."_

Abruptly, the attorney changed songs. _"I got class like a '57 cadillac, 'cuz my ride's got a whole lotta boom in the back... "_

"It certainly does," Olivia muttered, thinking of the many times she had caught herself observing Alex's retreating form. For a moment, arousal threatened to overwhelm amusement, until the lawyer continued singing.

_ "You look like you can handle what's under my hood..."_

Knocking on the door before pulling it open, she stumbled into the brightly lit room with tears of laughter streaming down her face. The shadow behind the shower curtain jumped in surprise, but Olivia was relieved when Alex appeared to steady herself. Looking thoroughly annoyed, her lover peeked around the edge of the curtain, allowing extra steam to escape. "You're in trouble, Detective Benson," she said. "You've managed to embarrass me and almost give me a heart attack in less than two seconds. Get out of those clothes and come in here before I have to strip you and read you your rights."

"You embarrassed yourself," Olivia grinned, reaching for the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head, "and maybe I should be reading you _your_ rights. I am an officer of the law."

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll kill you, and you know I'll never go to trial for it. I know all the tricks and several lawyers and judges in Manhattan owe me a favor."

Soon, Olivia's bra and socks joined her shirt. "What on earth were you singing?"

"The soprano line of _Dies Irae, _Mozart's _Requiem_," Alex said in her snottiest voice. "Day of wrath, day of judgment..."

"Superman that hoe? Who knew Mozart was such a poet?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up. It's traditional Latin text. You just don't appreciate good music."

"Trashy music," Olivia corrected, undoing her belt and letting her pants drop to the bathroom floor.

"Says who?"

"Says Ice-T*. He looks a lot like Fin, now that I think about it, but Elliot says he doesn't see the resemblance."

"Don't be a hater, Olivia. Now shut up and get in here before I have to hurt you."

Olivia held up her hands in mock surrender. "Yes ma'am."

As soon as she stepped into the shower, Olivia found herself pressed against the wall, pinned by a warm, lean body as a soft nose and lips nuzzled her cheek. "Well, hello to you, too, Counselor," she panted, surprised by Alex's enthusiastic greeting but more than willing to accept it. The lawyer had always been adept at changing gears quickly, and with Alex in the driver's seat, she had a fairly good idea of their intended destination. As the warm droplets of water scattered over her skin, smooth hands began wandering around her hips, exploring the flat planes of her lower stomach, pressing her harder against the wall.

Finally, oh, finally, Alex kissed her, and Olivia saw stars.

When both of them drew apart to breathe, Alex's fingers wrapped firmly around Olivia's slender wrist. "You're taking me out tonight, lover," she murmured, gracing Olivia with another, shorter kiss. "Then, when we come back, I'm going to ravish you."

Olivia swallowed, working moisture into a mouth that had suddenly gone dry in nervous anticipation. "Um... okay?" she said, blinking water out of her eyes. Olivia was reminded of Courtroom Alex, the determined, forceful woman that always knew exactly what she wanted and went after it, no holds barred. _I could never say no to her anyway..._

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Just somewhere. Anywhere with you. Let's go on an adventure." Olivia frowned for a moment, but not in displeasure. Alex was usually meticulous. A planner. Such spontaneity in her personal life almost seemed out of character, until she remembered that Alex was always testing limits – her own, Olivia's, and everyone else's.

"You're crazy," Olivia said, her frown becoming a grin as she squeezed the firm flesh under her hands, making Alex groan and place a kiss beneath her ear.

"You make me crazy. Maybe I should move up the ravishing on this evening's schedule..." Before the detective knew what was happening, Alex had neatly flipped her face forward against the slick wall, kisses and shower spray raining down on her neck and back. A slender arm reached past her for a bottle of blue shower gel, but the attorney's mouth never left contact with Olivia's skin as she poured it into her hands and worked up a thick lather.

Slowly, torturously, the blonde began a thorough exploration of Olivia's skin, massaging the lines of muscle along either side of her spine and rolling over the wings of her shoulder blades, rubbing the back of her neck beneath wet strands of hair, loosening the tightness in her arms, teasing her inner wrists and even the palms of both hands. Olivia's legs were shaking, and she was unsure if she would be able to remain standing. Alex's fingers sank into her tired flesh like warm butter, removing every last bit of rigidity and creating a different kind of tension entirely low in her belly.

"That feels a-ma-zing," Olivia groaned, resting her forehead against the wall to keep her face out of the shower spray. Alex smiled against her shoulder, reaching underneath Olivia's arms to palm two excited breasts.

"I see that," she purred, and Olivia could hear the smug pleasure in her voice. She found that it annoyed her much less than it had during their time as colleagues – perhaps because that smugness and pleasure was now directed entirely at her. And maybe, just maybe, because it had aroused her even back then, pushing her out of her comfort zone. Thoughts of Alex over the past ten years were quickly replaced with thoughts of the wet, naked, hungry Alex of the present as insistent fingers pinched her nipples, making her toes curl. One of Alex's feet rubbed along the back of Olivia's slick calf muscles, and she let her head fall back onto the blonde's shoulder.

For her part, Alex was having a difficult time pacing herself. Even in the stark whiteness and the harsh, artificial lighting of the shower, Olivia was magnificent. Even, naturally tanned skin over toned sheets of muscle, all curves, but somehow intrinsically captivating and powerful. She had an aura all her own, even when she was wet and whimpering for Alex's touch, and the attorney had no doubt that she was wet in more ways than one.

"Mine," Alex hummed as her hand crept down the line of Olivia's stomach, leaving behind a trail of soft white bubbles that was quickly swept away by the thumb of her other hand. The trail halted just above a neat strip of dark curls, drawing a maddening horizontal line across her abdomen, connecting the points of her hipbones, dipping down...

"So, Detective, is there anything you want to ask me?"

"Don't stop?" Olivia tried hopefully.

Alex laughed softly. "Mmhmm. Not quite." Sharp teeth closed around the lobe of Olivia's right ear, making her hips surge forward.

It took several moments for the brunette to catch her breath. "Fuck me?"

Alex tsked, removing one of her hands to give Olivia's backside a firm pinch. "Language..."

Olivia was tempted to call Alex a hypocrite, but she had other, more important needs to satisfy. "I-I think..." _I think I love you._ "I think I'm gonna die..."

The blonde laughed again, placing a long, wet kiss against Olivia's soft throat. "Well, we wouldn't want that," she purred, burying two fingers into her willing partner all the way to the knuckle and curling them forward sharply. Olivia cried out, and her very vocal reaction was rewarded with another thrust of her lover's hand.

Trapped against the shower wall with Alex's breasts pressed into her back, Olivia was helpless against the attorney's assault. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, but it wasn't nearly enough, and she never wanted the moment to end.

It only took one practiced roll of the blonde's thumb to send Olivia flying.

With her lover's hand still cupping her protectively, the detective collapsed bonelessly into Alex's arms. Sinking a little under the pressure of the extra weight, Alex managed to keep both of them standing while stroking out the last, pulsing aftershocks of Olivia's release, stretching it out until the brunette's breathing finally calmed down and her eyes opened. She tried to speak, but failed to find any words.

Out of nowhere, Alex began laughing, the sound echoing in the lavish master bathroom. Olivia looked at her strangely, her eyes still glazed over with residual lust and confusion. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said, not sounding the least bit repentant, "I just realized that I finally found a way to make you shut up... I should have done that years ago instead of fighting with you all the time!"

"Well," Olivia said hoarsely, her voice breaking, "I guess it would have made coming to you with a shaky warrant a lot more interesting..."

...

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

"Going to the HOWL!* Festival was not the most brilliant idea in your repertoire of brilliant ideas, Detective," Alex muttered, crossing her arms over her breasts and wishing (again) that she had chosen to wear something different for her evening out. "We're a little too old for this, don't you think?" Even though it was only September, it felt like November, and she regretted the short-sleeved top that she had chosen.

"I didn't want to go to the festival," Olivia said, trying not to look embarrassed as she and Alex navigated through the crowd. "I forgot the Lower East Side was going to be packed this weekend..." Both women had a strong presence that made people stop and take notice, but together, they were even more striking. It was not too difficult for them to walk by the stage where two women were shrieking something that they probably classified as "poetry" into the microphones.

"What were your plans?" Alex asked, straining to be heard over the constant noise. Fortunately, she was used to projecting her voice and annunciating clearly.

"I _wanted_ to take you to a nice, private Ukranian restaurant I know..."

Alex rolled her eyes, but Olivia was not discouraged. The attorney was also smiling. "Murphy's law," Alex said, pausing to watch a drag queen pass on her left. Feeling daring, she reached for Olivia's hand. The brunette accepted the contact. "We can't have a normal date."

The noise grew louder, and they did not attempt to speak again until they had escaped, taking refuge in a less crowded side street. "I never liked the poem, you know. Howl," Olivia clarified, scowling into the empty air as though she was being forced to try a food she did not like. "I had to study it in college. Hated it. Not surprised there's an entire bohemian festival named after it, though."

Alex grinned, her disappointment at the way the night had turned out fading away. She could be anywhere in the world, and she would be happy as long as Olivia was there with her. She considered saying this aloud, but decided that it was too much, too soon. Instead, she replied with, _"who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars..."_ The quotation was followed by a searing glance that left Olivia with no doubt in her mind that Alex wanted to continue exploring their physical relationship later.

"Your taste in literature is just as profane as your taste in music," the detective mumbled. "Which is funny, because you rarely use profanity at all. I've only heard you say 'damn' and 'hell' a few times while we were arguing, and I think I remember you saying 'fuck' a grand total of once... and it was while you were half asleep."

"That's why I started listening to rap music," Alex shrugged.

Olivia stopped walking, almost causing Alex to lose her balance because of their linked arms. "To learn how to swear?"

"To learn not to stutter over myself while reading back _indelicate_ transcripts in court. Remember that explicit story I had to read out loud? The one our perp was distributing to sex offenders in prison?"

The detective's stomach tossed unpleasantly, and Alex helped her regain her equilibrium with a reassuring hip bump. "Yeah... thank goodness the jurors asked you to stop after one page."

"I glanced over it the night before, and after losing the remainder of my dinner, I realized I needed practice. I decided to ease myself in to it by singing along with the most misogynist, profane rap music I could find. I forgot to delete the songs and the rest is history."

That made Olivia grin. "If I hadn't seen and heard for myself, I would never believe it. Alexandra Cabot, a shy, delicate flower... I guess your mother never washed your mouth out with soap."

The blonde stuck out her tongue in disgust. "Ew. No, that would taste terrible, and a shy, delicate flower, I most certainly am not. Unable to use swear words or sexual terms, perhaps. My first few SVU cases cured me of that pretty quickly."

"Easier to just shut up and do it?"

Alex wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Shut up and get it over with, more like. Sex with men was just a chore, and the women I tried hurt me pretty badly."

"You had rotten taste in partners, then," Olivia said. "I really hope that doesn't extend to me."

For just a moment, the attorney's eyes glazed over. "No, detective. It most certainly does not." After a brief pause, she added, "hey, do you know where we're going?"

Olivia shook her head. "We passed the line to the restaurant I wanted to take you to a block back, and it was out the door. I figured we'd wander around until we found somewhere less crowded. You did say that you wanted to go on an adventure..."

Alex considered complaining about the cold, but knew that Olivia would offer her jacket, and she did not want to deprive herself of the delicious picture that her lover made while wearing it. The image alone would probably be enough to keep her warm. "The people have no objection," she said instead. "By the way, jumping back about thirty seconds, we should probably talk about that."

"About what?" Olivia asked.

"Previous sexual partners."

"Why?"

_"Men,"_ Alex emphasized. "Does the thought of being exclusively with a woman bother you?"

That question surprised the detective a little, and she returned the question instead of answering it. "Does it bother you?"

"No, but I'm not attracted to men like you are."

"Christ, Alex, you were engaged." Alex was almost pleased at the note of jealousy in Olivia's voice, but tried not to be.

"Yes, and we were mostly abstinent during said engagement. Robert found me cold in bed, to be honest, and made some rather cutting comments about it." Alex decided not to describe the heated argument that had finally ended their engagement. Some of the things her fiancée had said still stung. "I even slept with a co-worker to try and convince myself that I wasn't gay. It obviously didn't work. Abbie and several years of therapy helped me get my head on... well... _not _straight. But you've enjoyed your sexual experiences with men. Is that something you can give up?" _Please say yes..._

For the second time that night, Olivia stopped walking. Putting both hands on Alex's shoulders, she looked directly into her eyes. Noticing the deadly serious expression on Olivia's face, the blonde's breath caught. Slowly, a gentle hand reached up to caress the line of Alex's cheek.

"I can have sex with a man or a woman and get some very basic satisfaction from it, Alex, but they're all the same to me. You? You make me feel so much more... I..." she took a deep breath, but the words she wanted to say formed a tight ball in her throat. _I love you. I don't want to be with anyone else now that I've experienced what it's like to make love with you..._ "You don't have anything to worry about," she said meekly.

And it was enough, until Olivia's phone rang. "Benson," she said, shooting Alex a silent apology with her eyes as she took the call.

_"Liv, I need you five minutes ago."_

"That's lovely, Elliot, but I'm kind of busy right now, and I think Kathy and Alex would object."

_ "We've got another one,"_ Elliot said without preamble, ignoring Olivia's joke. _"The goddamn press is probably going to beat us there if we don't haul ass..."_

Olivia winced, her good mood instantly vanishing. "Okay. It might take a while, I have to arrange transportation..."

Alex's mood also plummeted when she realized that Olivia was going to have to leave. "Since we drove it here, take my car, I'll catch a cab. Besides," she said with a faint smile as she handed Olivia the keys, "that means you have to stop back at my place to return my baby."

"Text me the address," she said into the phone, "I have to run a few blocks... See you in a few." Hanging up, she gave Alex an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. Not only am I ruining our non-date, I'm leaving you stranded in the Lower East Side in the middle of a huge festival..."

"Go," Alex insisted, throwing up her hand to hail a cab. It took less than twenty seconds, and Olivia stared at her in astonishment. The lawyer winked. "Cabs stop faster for uptown girls."

"But..."

Alex pressed a quick, hard kiss to her detective's lips. "Go," she said again, giving Olivia a helpful push and grabbing a handful of her very firm behind. Instead of taking the hint and leaving, Olivia remained for a few more seconds to give Alex a longer, deeper goodbye kiss before jogging back the way she had come, heading in the direction of Alex's car. _Oh well,_ Alex thought as she stepped into the cab and rattled off her address to a surprised but pleased looking cab driver, _maybe that quick little show can count as part of his tip._

...

** Chapter Twenty-Five:**

Detective Odafin Tutuola was an experienced and professional officer of the law. He had done it all, seen it all, and bought the t-shirt. There were very few things in this world that were able to surprise him, and even fewer that were worthy of commentary, but the sight of Olivia pulling up in a sleek black Lamborghini that was probably priced at several times his yearly salary earned a low whistle and a loud, "Damn, girl! Nice ride!"

Olivia rolled down the window, motioning Fin away from the mob and over to the curb, trying to ignore the eyes of the reporters, crime scene techs, EMTs, and rookies in uniform. Loud rap music drifted out of the window, and Olivia gave Fin a pleading look. "Help me figure out how to turn it off," she begged, unlocking the passenger's side door so that Fin could slide into the car. He bounced on the leather seats, looking very pleased. "Why isn't Elliot here?"

"Warner needed him. Said it was an emergency. He sent me to meet you here and help out. Now, what's the problem?"

"The music! I can't get it to turn off!" Olivia gestured desperately at the large display of dials and buttons. "I _hate_ technology," she grumbled, slamming her head onto the steering wheel and causing the car to honk. "I got the radio to work at one point, but it was tuned to Rush Limbaugh, and I'd honestly rather have the rap music."

"Sorry, what?" Fin, who had been bobbing his head to the beat and enjoying the plush seats of the car, returned his attention to Olivia. "Okay, gimme a sec, baby." After pressing three buttons, the rap music stopped playing and the car was mercifully silent.

"Odafin, I could kiss you! That was starting to drive me nuts."

The former narcotics detective grinned. "Why don't you save that kiss for Alex, Benson? This her car?"

"Yeah."

"Damn. Girl's got good taste for a white chick."

Olivia rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice. "Yeah, great taste. I don't see any sub-woofers, but I wouldn't put it past her to have them installed..."

"How do you know I wasn't talking about her taste in women, Liv?"

The brunette detective blushed. "Okay," she said, shoving Fin out of the car and turning off the engine, "show me what we've got."

The first thing that Olivia noticed once she left the car was all of the reporters gathered around the crime scene. She sighed, taking out her wallet and showing her badge to the rookie that had secured the scene. She held up a hand, ignoring the flash bulbs that were going off in her face and protecting her eyes. _Oh well,_ she thought, _at least I look nice for the cameras this time since I had to leave my date._

Inside the doorway, one of Melinda Warner's assistants was helping to process the evidence left on the body. "Your vic actually made it part way inside this time. 38 year old Caucasian male, Leo Rosetti, Mortgage broker. Hasn't fared to well during the dip in the economy, but he makes enough to afford these digs in the suburbs."

"Think it's the same guy?" Olivia asked, addressing the question to both Fin and the assistant.

"Take a look," said Jerry, carefully parting the deceased man's legs to reveal a missing part of his anatomy. "On the bright side – relatively speaking – we found it in the garbage a few feet away."

"Ugh, Huang's going to have a field day with this... Hey, Jerry, not that I mind working with you, but I thought Melinda would be here tonight?"

Fin bumped his temporary partner's shoulder playfully. "I already told you, the Doc is meeting with Elliot about something important. She was real secretive about it, said she needed to run some more tests earlier today. When we got the call, Warner came bursting out of the morgue like a bat outta hell and dragged Elliot back in with her. He barely had time to ask me to cover the scene for him."

Olivia's phone vibrated with an incoming text message, and she pulled it out of her pocket to check the screen. '_Going out with Serena since my first date was interrupted. Leaving my phone at home to charge, call hers if you need me. Love you.'_ Olivia smiled, shaking her head at the former ADA's perfect spelling. Typical anal-retentive Alex. They would have to work on that. The attorney's frequent declarations of love were still frightening to hear, but Olivia was beginning to enjoy them.

"Okay," she said, saving the text and returning her attention to the scene before them. As she shifted into work mode, thoughts of Alex sank to the back of her mind and the smile faded from her face. It felt strange to experience happiness, however fleeting, at the scene of a homicide. Strange, but not bad. She decided to appreciate the small distraction instead of feeling guilty about it. She knew better than most how quickly lives could be destroyed. When her time came, she wanted a few happy memories to take with her.

...

Abbie Carmichael pulled herself out of bed with a low groan, shuddering as her bare feet touched the cold floor. For the hundredth time, she told herself to suck it up and hire someone to carpet her bedroom instead of relying on rugs to cover the wooden floor.

Stumbling into the adjoining bathroom, she stared at her pale reflection in the mirror with a dissatisfied frown. "I look like shit," she pronounced, reaching for a toothbrush and squeezing out a dollop of toothpaste. After a jaw-cracking yawn and a quick wash of her face with some cold water from the sink, the federal prosecutor started to feel almost human again.

Running a brush through the bird's nest that her hair had become, she wandered around the living room in search of her cell phone before remembering that she had thrown it over the back of the couch. With a heavy sigh, she got down on her knees to retrieve the missing object and noticed several missed calls. _Work, Alex, Work, Work, One night stand – how did she get my number?... Work, some other girl, Work, Alex, Claire... no, I can't call Claire back. I'm abstaining! Work... Jesus Christ on a crutch, can't they go without me for one damn day? They know I'm out sick._

After checking her voicemail, Abbie decided that the office would survive without her for a few more hours. Deliberately choosing not to call back right away, she dialed Alex's number instead. After several rings, the answering machine picked up. _"You've reached the cell phone of Alexandra Cabot. I am unavailable to take your call at this time, so please leave a message or a call back number and I will contact you as soon as possible. If this is a work-related emergency, my pager number is..."_ Abbie rolled her eyes and mouthed along with the recording, having memorized it years ago.

"Cabot, you need to change your damn answering machine to something more interesting. You're probably off screwing your new stud, but I _refuse_ to be jealous. I'm feeling much better, even though I look like I was in the outhouse when lightning struck." She paused. "Yes, I know I annoy you, you don't have to remind me. You will also be delighted to know that I have not had sex in... um..." she did some quick mental calculations in her head. "Twelve days! So, call me back and tell me how dinner with Serena went. Oh, and tell Olivia that I get to be maid of honor when you get married. She doesn't know it yet, but you've got her ass branded, cowgirl."

Hanging up, Abbie flopped onto the couch and stared at the phone in her hand, wondering what on earth had possessed her to leave such a long, rambling message. Deciding to blame her illness and forget about it, she turned her mind to more important problems, like whether it was worth it to get up again and go to the kitchen for a glass of water and some toast.

* * *

* Ice-T metahumor, lol. Songs were: Dies Irae (Mozart's Requiem), Shut Up and Drive (Rihanna), and Crank Dat (Soulja Boy)

* The HOWL! Festival is a real festival that takes place in NYC's lower east side during september. It is based on the poem by Alan Ginsberg and celebrates bohemian art and culture.


	6. Part Six

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

"So, Cabot, do you want to tell me why you dragged me out for $6.95 worth of pizza, or are you just going to stare at me with that annoying contemplative expression on your face?" Serena Southerlyn asked, taking a sip of her Pepsi. Privately, Alex wondered if she drank it to spite Abbie Carmichael despite their three year and 290 mile separation. For Abbie, anything besides Coca Cola was blasphemy, and not just because she came from the South where every non-alcoholic soft drink was a 'Coke'.

"The pizza was fourteen bucks."

"We're splitting the check and you're tipping since you invited me out and I only have two singles on me, which I need to make $6.95. You owe me a nickel."

"Miser."

"You can afford it. I thought we were going to some fancy place where the meals are a hundred bucks a pop." Serena was not as wealthy as Alex, but came from some means. Their social circles overlapped occasionally because she and Alex had shared similar political ambitions at one time, but now Serena was relatively happy working for the ACLU.

Before her time in Witness Protection, Alex did not think very much about the amount of money she spent on every day things like food and clothes. Leaving all of her belongings behind and moving four separate times had taught her the value of life's simpler pleasures. Upon her return, her precious car had been one of her few concessions to luxury. Her clothes remained expensive because she needed them for work, but the rest of her monthly budget took a dramatic slash. Her large, slightly pretentious apartment she could do nothing about. She had inherited it from her deceased parents once the State finally recognized that she was no longer dead.

"Too bad for you. Thanks for bumping our dinner up a day, by the way. My other date bailed on me for work."

"No problem. You know, since you are such an inconvenience, I should make you pay for the whole meal," she teased.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Hey, I came here because I felt like eating pizza... I'm sure even Donald Trump eats pizza once in a while."

"Shut up, Alex. You're not _that_ rich."

"No, I'm not, especially considering where most of the interest from my trust fund is going these days." Nardalee's story had touched her life in several ways. Recently, her charitable contributions had branched out internationally as she prepared for her new job overseas.

"But that's not why you've dragged me out for dinner. I bet it isn't because of my brilliant dining conversation, either."

"You know I enjoy spending time with you, Serena." _It's just awkward dealing with you, Abbie, my own screwed up life, and now Liv on top of everything else. _"I'm sorry that I have been neglecting you lately. I've, well..." Alex groped for the right words. 'Met someone' sounded too trite. How exactly did one go about telling people that after years of arguments, a shooting, various assaults, reincarnations, reappointments, resignations, and engagements gone awry that she had finally worked up the nerve to confess her feelings to her seemingly unattainable love of almost a decade? She was sure that the Miss Manners handbook had no advice for this particular situation.

Two bites of mushroom and olive pizza gained her a thirty second reprieve. "Olivia and I have been seeing each other."

Alex was confident that if Serena's parents had not drilled proper table manners into their only daughter from a very early age, her mouth would have fallen open even though it was full of food. "I don't believe it," she said hoarsely, finally swallowing and trying not to choke. She had a sudden case of dry mouth, and took another long gulp of her Pepsi. "I don't believe you had the guts to approach her, and I don't believe she was enough of a Saint to forgive you after the way you treated her."

The taller of the two blonde attorneys blushed, feeling a little defensive. "Believe it. I know I've made a lot of mistakes concerning Detective Benson. You don't need to remind me about all the time I lost because of my own stupidity..."

"Hey, I never said I wasn't happy for you! That's great." Reaching across the table, she hugged Alex, not noticing or caring that the edge of her white sleeve trailed over a spot of grease on the table. Suddenly, her expression became almost coy, and Alex's face might have flushed if she were not used to handling Abbie Carmichael's constant sexual innuendos. "So, Alexandra Cabot, am I to assume that you asked me out to dinner for _girl talk_ about your new squeeze?"

Alex raised her right eyebrow over the frames of her glasses. "What evidence do you have to support this accusation?"

"Well, there's a love bite that you keep trying to shift underneath the collar of your blouse," Serena pointed out, amused when Alex scowled and tried to crane her neck at an awkward angle in order to see the alleged mark.

"Really?" she asked, looking a little frustrated. "I thought I used enough cover-up."

The former Homicide ADA grinned. "Missed a spot. I guess Benson likes to brand her conquests." Alex chose not to take offense at the term 'conquest' and also decided not to mention that Olivia was currently sporting several marks of her own.

"I remember teasing you about the same thing once upon a time," Alex pointed out instead, subtly directing the conversation back to Serena's life.

Serena sighed. "Unfortunately, my own dating opportunities have been few and far between," she said, picking up on Alex's cue. She sensed that the blonde was excited to share the news of her new relationship, but not comfortable discussing the explicit details. "You know, when I came out as a lesbian, I thought the dating pool would improve without all the hassle men bring into a relationship. Unfortunately, there are just as many queer crazies as straight crazies."

"There certainly are," Alex laughed. "Oh well, at least the sex is better."

"If I was looking for amazing sex, I'd hop on a train to DC," Serena said with a hint of regret. "You know, _She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ was the last long term relationship I had, as sad as that sounds... and it wasn't even a long term relationship. Hell, it wasn't even a relationship. We were basically friends with benefits." Although Serena could stand to hear Abigail Carmichael's name now, there had been a time when she refused to let Alex speak it in her presence.

Alex tried not to pale. That was more information about her best friend than she ever wanted to know. _Even when Carmichael's not around, her wild sex life seems to come up to haunt me during conversations. Oh well, at least she hasn't asked me about-_

"So, speaking of amazing sex..."

_Oh no..._

"Is Detective Benson the passionate, red-hot lover that all of the men and lesbians at the courthouse seem to think she is? I'm sure they still do, but I don't work there anymore, courtesy of our former boss."

A dark shadow crossed Serena's face, and Alex closed her eyes and pressed two fingers to each temple. "No. No. No. We are not discussing this."

"Branch, or Donna Olivia?"

"Don Giovanni was a scoundrel and a rapist, so I sincerely hope that you were not comparing Olivia to him. I am never taking you to see a Mozart opera again."

"What about-"

"Wagner is out, too. The Ring of the Nibelung is far too long."

Serena smiled at the long-standing inside joke. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered. It was the first thing we did together when I came back from the dead."

"You've got Jesus Christ beat, Alex. He has only come back from the dead once so far, but you've done it twice."

"That just proves that I did it faster," Alex said, her standard reply to that particular joke. "Don't expect any other miracles from me any time soon."

_Although a little help from upstairs wouldn't go unappreciated right now,_ she thought to herself. _Trying to talk Serena into hearing Abbie's apology – or whatever that crazy woman has planned this time – will take a minor miracle._

"So, has the squad been giving you a hard time now that you've snatched up one of New York's finest?" Serena asked.

"Actually, Abbe has been giving me a hard time." Alex knew that she was taking a risk when she saw the flash of old hurt that welled up in her friend's eyes. "Personally, I think she is a little jealous. Far be it from me to ask about her personal life, but I get the impression that she has been rather cool towards the ladies recently."

Serena's eyes narrowed slightly, an almost imperceptible tremor shaking the contents of her glass ever so slightly as she lifted it to her mouth, leaving a smeared lipgloss print along its edge. She noticed and dabbed it away with her napkin. "Really," she said guardedly. "Don't tell me she's started seeing men."

"No. I think our Miss Carmichael is approaching the age when the chase begins to lose its thrill. Actually, she mentioned you the other day."

Serena's lips pressed tightly together, her suspicions instantly aroused. "Really," she repeated.

Alex decided to be blunt. "She wants to apologize to you for being an insensitive ass."

"Someone," she gave Alex a pointed look, "should remind _our Miss Carmichael_ that using friends to relay messages fell out of favor some time after middle school. Does she want to apologize or reconcile? Because I'm not sure I want to hear either from her right now. I'm not even sure whether I should be talking to you if you're in her camp..."

"I refuse to take sides in this," Alex interrupted before Serena could pick up an old, familiar argument of theirs that had almost ended their friendship on two different occasions. "I told her I would lay the situation out for you, but that if she wanted to try and apologize or reconcile, she had to do it herself. And if you want to tell her to go to hell, I wouldn't blame you."

There was a thick, layered silence.

Alex chose her moment and her words carefully. "She thinks about you. Sometimes she will start telling a story about something you said or did before she realizes... I can honestly say that I have never heard her continue to talk about any other woman she has invited into her bed after the first night. To her, I'm not sure they even have names." Then, the trump card. "She hasn't had sex for the past two weeks. I don't think she is expecting me to tell you that part."

Serena was speechless. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

What might seem like the norm for many other people in the United States was a rare and precious accomplishment for Abbie, who spent just as many nights in strange apartments as her own.

"Two weeks... Give me time, Alex."

"Don't feel obligated to do _anything_, Serena. Considering all of the stupid things I've done, I sympathize with her, but you owe her absolutely nothing. Don't let her need to clear the air disrupt your peace of mind."

"My peace of mine has been good and disrupted since she broke my heart," Serena admitted. "It's too late to try and protect me, Cabot, but thanks for trying."

...

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:**

At 9:05 PM, Olivia Benson stumbled in to Alex's apartment, a little disconcerted that the Doorman recognized her and allowed her in without asking for identification. She had spent several hours at the Rosetti crime scene and her nerves were already shot. It did not help that she was supposed to be off this evening and that Elliot had not yet contacted her with an explanation for his absence.

Honestly, it was not the lack of security that bothered her as much as the lack of privacy. Telling the squad (inadvertently or not) about her relationship with Alex was one thing, but having everyone and their grandmother aware of their relationship made her decidedly uncomfortable. For all of their teasing, Elliot, Munch, and Fin were family. She and Melinda were also fairly close.

_But even the damn Doorman? _Olivia asked herself, frowning as she turned on the light. _That's too much. Driving Alex's car to the crime scene was stupid, too. What if a reporter...? No. I doubt anyone recognized it. She usually took a cab or the subway when we worked together._

With a tired sigh, Olivia kicked off her shoes and placed them neatly beside the coat hanger, careful to wipe her feet. Alex's apartment was larger than hers. On her first visit, she had been surprised by the lack of expensive furniture and artwork, but it soon became clear that Alex did not care as much about that sort of thing as Olivia had expected (aside from the lavish design of the master bathroom, which Olivia appreciated very much).

It was clear from the lack of footwear beside her own pair of modest heels and the darkness of the apartment that Alex was not back from her dinner engagement. Olivia still felt guilty about leaving her stranded in the Lower East Side, and so she decided that Alex was due for some pampering.

"She'll probably be home soon." _And glad to see her precious car undamaged,_ she added silently. The detective thought for a moment as she hung up her coat on the coat rack and re-did the locks, the domesticity and familiarity of the act making her stomach twist nervously.

"Okay, right. Do something for Alex to apologize. Yeah."

Olivia dismissed cooking as a possible idea, remembering that her girlfriend was out at dinner with Serena. The name seemed familiar, but it took Olivia a few moments to place Serena Southerlyn, the blonde, attractive ADA who had worked in Homicide for a time before being dismissed under dubious circumstances. According to the rumor mill at One Hogan Place, former DA Branch had canned her for shopping at the softer side of Sears.

So, Alex was out with a friend. A female friend. An attractive lesbian friend. _Pull it together, Benson. You're the one who left her tonight. Besides, this is still so new..._

Feeling tendrils of jealousy beginning to wind their way around her heart, Olivia tried to think of something else to do for Alex. Preparing dinner was out, but she could at least draw the attorney a bubble bath and check her answering machine so that Alex did not have anything else to worry about when she got home. _She'll probably be home soon, right? I mean, we've both been out for a few hours already._

Recognizing that her emotions were running all over the place, Olivia headed for Alex's bedroom to start a bath for her, deciding that if the blonde did not show up in time to enjoy it, she would take advantage of the large Jacuzzi tub herself.

While she waited for the water to heat up – Alex liked her bathwater scalding and her showers cold, Olivia had learned in the past week – the detective went through Alex's bathroom cupboards to find some bubbles and scented candles. So far, Alex had made most of the romantic gestures in their relationship. If she cared to analyze Alex's behavior before their awkward, expensive French dinner date (which she did not, because it made her slightly uncomfortable and more than a little terrified), the attorney had certainly been courting her. Well, two could play at that game.

Once the scent of lavender bubble bath and vanilla candles (a strong but surprisingly pleasant combination) had permeated the bathroom, Olivia decided to peek in Alex's wine cabinet. As she passed through the master bedroom, she noticed the flashing screen of Alex's phone on her bedside table. For a moment, Olivia wondered why Alex had gone without her phone until she remembered the blonde's last text message.

Recalling her earlier idea to check Alex's work messages for her, something she had done a few times while Alex was particularly busy even before they had entered a relationship, she touched the phone's screen and brought it to life with her fingertip.

_**You Have 4 New Messages**__, _Olivia read.

Pressing 1 for voicemail and grabbing a pen and slip of paper from a small plastic basket on the nightstand, which had probably been placed there exactly for that purpose, Olivia prepared to write down anything important.

The first two messages were short and to the point, leaving numbers and requests to call back the following morning. The third message was much more interesting. Alex's boss, the 'Senior Member' of the international task force to which she had been assigned, began describing a rebel camp that the UN had disbanded. In a clipped British accent, he explained some of the terrorism charges that the group hoped to bring against someone named Mani Japhet.

Writing down the pertinent information and pressing 9 to save the message, Olivia got ready to listen to the next recorded voicemail. To her surprise, a familiar voice with a very pronounced Texan twang filled the room.

_"Cabot, you need to change your damn answering machine to something more interesting. You're probably off screwing your new stud, but I refuse to be jealous. I'm feeling much better, even though I look like I was in the outhouse when lightning struck... _[Pause]_ Yes, I know I annoy you, you don't have to remind me. You will also be delighted to know that I have not had sex in... um... Twelve days! So, call me back and tell me how dinner with Serena went. Oh, and tell Olivia that I get to be maid of honor when you get married. She doesn't know it yet, but you've got her ass branded, cowgirl."_

Long after the dial tone of Alex's empty phone filled the room, Olivia sat staring at the wall, her heart pounding in her chest. Marriage? Alex had been talking to Abbie about marriage? They hadn't even been together for a week yet! Granted, there were extenuating circumstances, but...

Suddenly, the detective felt the walls closing in on her. The doorman, everyone's teasing and assumptions about their relationship, the constant phone calls... with something akin to horror, Olivia realized that she had spent almost all of her free time with Alex since she returned from Washington D.C.

_This is happening way too fast..._

Throwing the phone onto the bed and abandoning her sheet of messages, Olivia bolted from the bedroom and ran to grab her coat and shoes, getting out of Alex's apartment the only thing on her mind.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why did I think this would work? Both of us must be crazy..._

Every time Olivia and Alex started to grow close, something bad happened to tear them apart again – forward one step, back two. After she began processing the beginning stages of surprise and fear, Olivia realized that she was angry. "Who does she think she is?" she asked fate or God or whoever happened to be listening as she threw herself into the driver's seat of her own car, which was parked next to Alex's Lamborghini. Barely glancing in to the rear view mirror, she swerved out of the parking lot and into thick, congested city traffic. The uneven, sporadic motion of the cars ahead of her gave her plenty of time to simmer.

"Damn it," she said aloud into the empty space. "I can't believe her... she thinks she can walk back in to my life acting like the last six years never happened and just claim me like some goddamn trophy! She's the most arrogant, pig-headed, insensitive..." She continued to fume for the rest of the drive back to her empty apartment, ignoring the ringing of her cell phone.

Several blocks away, Alex was wandering around her apartment, confused and a little disappointed. Olivia had obviously been there, since someone had drawn her a bath and turned on the lights. The door had been unlocked when she came in, but her lover was nowhere to be found.

Deciding to give the missing detective a call, Alex headed back into the bedroom to find her cell phone. To her surprise, it was lying in the middle of her bed. A tinny voice drifted out of the speakers. "You have no more new messages. To erase, press 7. To save, press 9. To listen to this message again, press 2 now."

Picking up the phone, Alex pressed 2. When Abbie Carmichael's voice flooded the room, all of the color drained from her face.

...

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:**

Olivia paced around the bullpen like a caged lion, trying to force all thoughts of Alex from her mind and throwing herself into the latest rape/homicide with renewed vigor. Her apartment had been too empty, too quiet and dark, leaving her with nothing but loneliness and thoughts of Alex.

Every time she wondered why she was here, alone and boiling over with anger instead of sharing a lavender bubble bath and champagne with a naked, beautiful blonde, she remembered something Alex had done in her past to hurt her. Disappearing before they could confess their feelings. Not saying goodbye after Liam Connors' trial when she had _promised_... Disappearing again and not even having the decency to pick up the phone when she came back as Bureau Chief. _I had to read_ _about her big-society engagement in the Post, for Christ's sake._ And in a few weeks she would be flying all the way to Africa.

_What if she changes her mind about us while she's there?_

"She can't keep doing this to me," Olivia said to the empty room. "She keeps pulling me back like some sort of Goddamn magnet no matter how hard I try to escape."

Time after time, the attorney had drawn Olivia in, pulling her closer and closer before disappearing from her life pushing her away without the courtesy of a goodbye. _What if she leaves me again?_ Olivia was not sure if she could survive it this time. Before, she had collected the pieces of her broken heart and moved on, isolating her feelings and locking them away, but it was too late for that now. Not after making love with Alex, experiencing all of her. Not after hearing her say 'I love you'. The only solution – and it was not really a solution – was to pull away herself before Alex could reject her again.

"And she has the nerve to talk to Carmichael about _marrying_ me when we both know it's just a matter of time..."

Slowly, deliberately, Olivia stopped pacing and stared at the three pictures on the situation board. Below each were notes, notes about the similarities and differences between the three victims. So far, she had not found a connection between Alicia St. Michael and Leo Rosetti, but she figured it was only a matter of time. These men deserved justice, and here she was, moping over her confusing, disastrous relationship with Alex Cabot. She needed to focus.

With one last surge of energy, she forced all thoughts of Alex from her mind.

"The case. Think about the case."

Before, her problem had been bringing tough cases home with her. Now, she was bringing personal problems into the squad room and it was interfering with her job.

Alicia. She was the focus of this case. With a sigh, Olivia realized that she was going to have to bring the girl in for another round of questions. There had to be something, some small detail, some way of figuring out who was following her and killing the men she interacted with. She flipped through the file of forensic information and witness statements until she found Alicia's address, copying it down. She considered calling ahead, but the thought of checking her phone and seeing frantic missed calls from Alex was too painful. Grabbing her keys, she gave the situation board one last glance. Three faces, pale with death's familiar color, stared back at her.

_Okay. Get to work, Benson._

It was going to be a late night. She could tell.

...

"Pick up, pick up, pick up... Oh hell, why does she have to be so difficult?" Alex ground out the words between clenched teeth, smashing the 'end call' button with her thumb for the sixth time. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Obviously, Olivia was running away from her again because of what she had heard on Alex's answering machine. "I am going to kill Abbie Carmichael when I get the chance," she promised the lamp on her bedside table, glaring a hole through the fabric of the lampshade. The lamp did not respond.

Dropping the phone carelessly on the carpeted bedroom floor, Alex sat on the bed and tried to think of what to do. Eventually, she went into the bathroom and blew out the candles, emptying the cold bubble bath without getting in to the tub. She did not feel like enjoying it without Olivia's company.

She was about to begin brushing her teeth while formulating a plan of action when a shrill ringing from the bedroom drew her attention. Hoping it was Olivia and knowing it probably wasn't, Alex dropped her toothbrush in the sink and ran for her cell phone, grabbing it up off the floor and flipping it back open.

"Olivia?" she asked hopefully when she realized that she had answered the phone before checking caller ID.

_"Nope, her other half,"_ said a concerned Elliot Stabler. _"She's not answering your calls either?"_

"No. We had a – well, Olivia had a fight by herself while I was out. I didn't exactly get a chance to make my case."

_"She's an idiot,"_ Elliot said flatly. _"So that's why she's not answering her phone. I don't suppose you know where she is? I was hoping she was at your place."_

"No. She's probably at her apartment. Why?"

_"She's not. I tried calling her home phone, and when there was no answer, I asked the landlord to check and see if she was in. He said her place was locked up and dark."_

"Could she be at a bar?"

Elliot shook his head before realizing that Alex could not see his response. _"She only drinks when she's happy and out with friends, not when she's sad. She's careful around the bottle because of her mother, you know?"_

"Why do you need to find her?"

_"I was with Warner earlier, and then I had to track down Marlowe on the off-chance of getting a warrant. Has she told you about the case we're working on?"_

"The double – wait, she said something about 'another one' earlier when she left our date – triple male rape/homicide? Yeah. I've seen it in the papers, too."

_"Yeah, that one. All of the vics knew a girl named Alicia St. Michael. We've been questioning her on and off for the past week, and she claims she's being stalked. We thought it might be a reporter following her around, but–"_

"Do you think she's at the station?"

_"Possibly."_

"Want me to drive over?" Alex asked, slipping back into her heels and grabbing her keys off of the kitchen counter as she hurried through the apartment. "Where are you?"

_"Getting in the car out in Queens. When I couldn't find her, I thought she might be at my place; Kathy and the kids are out tonight. You'll beat me there."_

Alex sighed as she went into the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage and staring at the illuminated letter 'P' with tired eyes. "Okay." She had hoped that Elliot would get to Olivia first. Maybe he would be able to talk some sense into her. Alex had a feeling that if Olivia saw her, she would be resistant to her attempts at making up. "Not that I got a chance to fight with her, she bolted before we talked..." she mumbled.

_"What?"_ Elliot asked, not able to make out what Alex was saying.

"Nothing, sorry... why the urgency to get a hold of Olivia? I thought this was her night off."

_"New evidence came in. There were some problems with the DNA, but Warner sorted it out."_

"Enough to make a defense lawyer happy?" The lawyer in Alex could not resist asking.

_"Nah, we got a clean semen sample, but the epithelials caused the techs a few headaches. Originally, they thought it was one set of DNA that got contaminated, but it turns out there were two sets of DNA, a 50% match, brother and sister. Alicia St. Michael has a brother. Apparently, he checks on her most evenings. We're goddamn lucky he must have spent time with her earlier in the night. If he hadn't transferred a bit of her DNA on to his victims, we might not have gotten around to checking him so quickly."_

"You've got your perp," Alex said. It was not a question. "Listen, Elliot, I'm getting in my car. I'll drive over to the station house and call you when I get there. I'll put her on the phone if I find her so you can chew her out."

Elliot was too worried about his partner to notice the opening for a dirty joke, for which Alex was grateful. _"Okay. Thanks, Alex."_

...

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:**

Removing her finger from the buzzer, Olivia stared up at the neat little two-story house. Its windows were dark and so far no one had come to answer the door. There were no reporters in sight, probably because most of them were still at the Rosetti crime scene, but she kept her eyes open for any strange shadows or movements in the night. Raising her fist, Olivia tried banging on the door just in case the buzzer wasn't working. "Ms. St. Michael? Alicia? It's Detective Benson from the 1-6." Receiving no answer to her knock, she tilted her head to the side, peering in through the dark glass window-squares that lined either side of the front door. For a moment, she thought she saw movement inside the house, but she could not be sure.

Just as she was about to turn and walk back to the car in order to retrieve her cell phone, she heard the click of a lock and the creak of hinges behind her. Glancing back over her shoulder, Olivia recognized the face of Alicia's brother staring at her through a crack in the door. His expression was serious, his jaw set, and his eyes seemed to burn as he looked at her. Suddenly, Olivia realized that she didn't even know his name.

"Detective Benson. I remember you."

The cadence of his voice was normal, unhurried, but she could detect a hint of nervousness about him. Her instincts were instantly on high alert. "Mr. St. Michael," she said, assuming that he probably shared a last name with his sister. "I'm looking for Alicia. Is she home?"

The young man glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to study her thoughtfully. "Yes." Olivia felt like a specimen tacked to a display board. _This guy is really giving me the creeps,_ she thought, regretting her decision to leave her cell phone in the car. The first and only time she had met this man, nothing about him had stood out, but now she felt like the heroine in a very bad horror movie about to go in to the serial killer's lair. _Why didn't I think to check on the brother before? Sex Crimes 101 – it's usually someone in the family._

For a moment, Olivia considered walking away and calling Elliot, doing a background check, something, but she did not want to do anything to make Alicia's brother uncomfortable. Besides, the girl might still be in the house, and if her brother really was behind all of this... she did not want to think about what he was capable of doing to his sister. That made the decision for her. Mentally checking the weight of her holstered gun at her hip instead of reaching for it and possibly scaring him, she took a deep breath and asked, "may I come in? I need to speak with her."

Again, the young man appeared to think about it. He did not look dissimilar from Alicia, but they did not share a particularly striking resemblance, either. "Sure."

Cautiously, but not too cautiously, the brunette detective stepped inside the dark house as Alicia's brother stepped aside. "I don't believe I remember your name," she told him. She was sure it was in her files somewhere, but she could not remember it. Olivia was usually better with faces anyway.

"James," he said. "We were never formally introduced."

The house was surprisingly clean, almost bare. As Olivia trailed her fingers subtly along one of the tables near the door, she noticed that there wasn't a speck of dust to be found. Swallowing to moisten her dry throat, she straightened her spine and followed James up the stairs.

...

Alex hurried through the familiar hallways of the police department with the practiced ease of a veteran. She was on autopilot, having made the trip to SVU's squad room many times. The blonde just hoped that Olivia would calm down and listen to reason once she realized that she was being ambushed. Alex was tired of doing most of the work (and all of the reassuring) in their relationship so far, but she supposed that she deserved it – to a certain extent. She had left the detective alone and heartbroken more than once, although some of those separations had been out of her control.

"She's not getting away with this," she muttered, refusing to take the blame for Olivia's insecurities. Olivia could keep running for as long as she liked. Alex had no intention of letting her escape this time; she would just hold on tighter. She was ready to fight, cajole, seduce, or forcibly drag Olivia in to her arms. Whatever worked the fastest.

Bursting into the bullpen, Alex lost all of her fire when she realized that the squad room was dark. Only the faint light of the lamp on Olivia's desk illuminated the usually busy squad room. That meant Munch and Fin were catching, since Elliot was heading in from Queens, and Olivia was...

Searching for inspiration, Alex turned on the overhead fluorescent lighting, listening as the familiar buzz of electricity filled her ears. Glancing at Olivia's desk, she saw three pictures – dead crime scene photos – on the board and an open file on Olivia's desk. "She really needs to put more of this stuff on a computer," Alex said. Although she had pushed a forest's worth of paper during her first stint as SVU's ADA, most of her work as Bureau Chief had been computerized.

When she noticed the address form sitting on top of one of the paper stacks and the discarded notepad and pen beside it, she instantly realized where Olivia had gone. "Why on earth is she questioning suspects so late?" Alex asked herself, even though she knew perfectly well why. She was not surprised that Olivia had retreated into her work to escape from their non-fight.

She reached for her phone to call Elliot, looking back at the paper in order to give him the address, when she noticed the bottom of the form. **Other Residents: St. Michael, James Gabriel.**

The attorney's blood froze.

If she was reading this right, Olivia had gone to question Alicia about the third victim. Her brother lived with her. The same brother that Elliot had told her was very likely their murderer and rapist. And Olivia was going in there alone, without back-up, not knowing...

"Please, let her be armed... better yet, let me be totally wrong about this..." she muttered as she hit Elliot's number on speed dial. He answered on the first ring.

"_Stabler."_

"21 Rathbone Place," she said, her voice clipped and dry.

"_Plugging it in. I'm glad I bought Kathy that GPS two Christmases ago. Why is she there?"_

"It's Alicia's address."

"_Shit, I knew it sounded familiar. Why is Liv- wait, doesn't her brother live with her?"_ he added, his voice sounding increasingly worried.

"Exactly," Alex panted, slightly out of breath as she hurried back to her car as fast as possible in heels, pulling her keys out of her purse preemptively.

"_Does she know he-?"_

"Not sure." Either Olivia knew and was doing something monumentally heroic – _monumentally stupid_ _and likely to result in a lawsuit and the case getting thrown out, _Alex thought –, or she had no idea how much danger she was in. More than likely, it was the second. Olivia was sensible enough to follow the proper legal channels and call for back up when approaching a potentially violent suspect. Alex wasn't sure which of the two possibilities was more frightening. "I'm heading out too. I'll probably beat you there."

"_Alex, stay-" _She hung up before he could finish, leaving Elliot cursing into the mouthpiece of his phone as his foot pressed harder on the gas pedal.

...

**Chapter Thirty:**

Olivia purposely allowed James to lead the way, the small muscles in her hand twitching as she glanced at her gun from the corner of her right eye. Even though she did not match the demographics of James' previous three victims, she had no desire to become his fourth. She stared at the back of his head, her mind racing. In contrast, he seemed completely calm. _All I need is fake boobs and blonde hair and I'm ready to audition for a B horror movie,_ she thought, unwilling to admit that she was terrified. Blonde hair... _Alex._

Hearing the attorney's name in her mind instantly made her regret running out of her apartment a few hours ago. She wished... but wishing was pointless now. It was time to move on to non-verbal praying to whomever might be listening.

"So," James asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "you think you know anything about this nutcase that's been stalking my sister and killing those three people?"

Olivia did not mention that only two of the murders had been announced so far. Unless he had been watching TV right before coming downstairs to answer the door, it was highly unlikely that he would have heard about Leo Rosetti's murder – unless he was involved. Instead, she settled for lying through her teeth, grateful that James could not see her face. "We don't know for sure if it's the same guy, we think the person following her is a member of the press."

"Oh yeah? Give me his name so I can pound some sense into him."

"My partner is on his way to pick him up for questioning," she lied again. "I'll let you know if we get anything out of him."

"My sister can't even feel safe in her own home. It isn't right."

Olivia let her silence stand as agreement. Finally, they reached the top of the stairs. The St. Michaels' house was actually very tasteful. It certainly did not look like the kind of place a slasher flick would purchase for their set. The furniture was nice, the carpets were clean, and there were even some charming family photos on the walls. _Oh well, I suppose even murderers can live in the most innocuous surroundings._

The detective wanted to slide out of her leather jacket and free the range of motion in her shoulders, but could not think of a subtle way to do so. Instead, her muscles bunched and coiled like a jungle cat's. Her adrenaline levels surged and her heart pounded, sending blood rushing to her legs and arms in case she needed to make a run for it or grab her weapon.

James opened the door to a bedroom at the end of the hall. The low, muted sound of a television drifted underneath the crack in the door. "Alicia's in her bedroom." James held the door open for her, and Olivia waited for one long, uncomfortable second, deciding whether it was safe to allow her back to face the large man or step into the room. Eventually, the length of the silence made the decision for her, and she went past him and through the door, immediately sidestepping so that her back was against the wall...

And straight into the pointed barrel of a gun.

...

"I need sirens on this damn car..." Alex spat through gritted teeth, honking furiously at the line of cars stopped in front of her at a red light. Strangely, she wished that Abbie Carmichael was with her. The federal prosecutor was almost always packing, but Alex's Louis Vuitton only contained a tube of lipstick and some mascara, her ever-present smartphone and PDA, her wallet and credit cards, and twenty-three dollars and sixty eight cents in cash. Unfortunately, she had cleaned the unnecessary items out of her purse after taking her leave of absence. She had no idea what she was going to do when she arrived at Alicia St. Michael's house, but she knew she had to try and do something to help Olivia, even unarmed. If she was lucky, maybe Olivia would still be in possession of her weapon and she could tell her James was their perp.

She glared at the stubborn, neon-red stoplight, mentally willing it to turn green. Banging her head against the steering wheel again in frustration, she let the horn blast, not caring if she annoyed her fellow commuters. _Why are so many people out driving this late at night, anyway?_

"Hey, baby, don't get your panties in a twist..." a stocky man in a wife beater yelled from the next car over.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Alex turned her head, ignoring the curled wisp of hair that fell from her bun and tickled her neck. She rolled down the window, letting the unfortunate driver feel the full power of her glacial glare. "Excuse me?" she said, her brows lowering dangerously over the frames of her glasses.

The man ignored her (an impressive feat). "Nice ride. Why don't you follow me off at the next turn so I can get a closer look."

Keeping one eye on the light so that she would not waste a second of precious time, Alex glanced down at the man's front license plate. "That's it," she growled. "I'm memorizing your license plate, and after tonight you are never going to be able to drive anywhere in this city without getting some kind of parking ticket. Oh, and if you have any fines? Consider them doubled."

At that second, the light turned green and Alex slammed her foot on the gas, zooming off into the night as fast as traffic would allow and not even bothering to flip the offending lowlife off through the open window of her car.

"_Turn right in 2.1 miles,"_ her GPS said in its robotic voice, increasing Alex's frustration.

"Don't you start, Emily," she groaned, referring to the GPS by the name of its American – English voice setting. Emily's clock said that she would be arriving at the St. Michael residence in 7 minutes, but she knew that the GPS was probably underestimating city traffic and stoplight length.

"Dial by name," she instructed her car phone, glancing frantically from her dashboard clock to the GPS and almost forgetting to check her rearview mirror as she changed lanes. The car behind her honked, but she ignored the minor distraction. "Stabler, Elliot."

"_Dialing..."_ said another mechanical voice, this one recorded instead of robotic, but entirely too perky. One ring later, Elliot picked up.

"I'm five minutes away," Alex said, skipping introductions. "What's your ETA?"

"_I'm ten minutes behind you with the sirens. Alex, pull over and wait for me. You don't know what you could be walking in to."_

"I don't care."

"_Think about what Olivia would do if you got hu-"_

Not allowing Elliot to finish his guilt trip, she continued weaving her way in and out of the evenly spaced cars ahead of her, trying to get any advantage she could. New York City traffic could be ruthless, but so could she. Olivia was in danger and she was going to be there come hell or high water.

Her last thought before she followed Emily's directions and turned right on two wheels was: _at least Abbie will be satisfied. Riding to the rescue, and here I am using colloquialisms. Damn her._


	7. Part Seven

C**hapter Thirty-One:**

"Hello, detective," said Alicia St. Michael, staring at Olivia with clear eyes over the barrel of the DA semi-automatic pistol. "We've been expecting you."

Olivia, who had been expecting to find Alicia's bloody, mangled corpse instead of a woman pointing a gun at her, was completely taken aback for a few seconds. Her cop instincts, however, immediately told her to try and talk her way out of the situation. Her fingers itched to grasp the handle of her own weapon, but Alicia's hand was steady on the semi-automatic, and she was afraid that the woman would shoot if she moved an inch.

"You don't have to do this, Alicia," she said, keeping her back pressed against the wall so that James could not attack her from behind while she tried to reason with his sister. "Whatever James has told you or tried to make you do, we can fix... If you put down the gun and help me turn him in, I'm sure I can put in a good word for you with the DA when this goes to trial..."

Alicia let out a humorless laugh. "Oh no. If this thing goes to trial, it's going to be on my terms. And James... James has done everything I asked him to do." The large man came through the door and stood beside his sister, putting his gigantic hands on her slim shoulders and glowering at Olivia with a protective, menacing look. "I've been working on him," she continued. "I've been teaching him since we were children. He's always been the _perfect_ brother."

Instantly, Olivia felt an unexplainable stab of pity for James. She realized what had been so off-putting about him when they first met. He obviously had some kind of mental instability. Whether it had been present since childhood or whether Alicia had somehow caused it, she would probably never know.

"James, do you understand what Alicia has been making you do?" James' expression remained still as stone. "Killing those people will get you life in prison, James. Alicia doesn't care about you. She was setting you up the entire time."

Olivia had a little bit of hostage negotiation experience, but she had never tried negotiating for her own life before. Considering she had a pistol pointed directly between her eyes, she was amazed that she was able to put together a sentence at all.

"Alicia is my sister," he said confidently, with the naïve sincerity of someone who had been completely brainwashed. "She would never do anything wrong. Those men had to die."

"Why?"

"They touched her. They weren't supposed to touch her."

The curl of Alicia's smile told Olivia that the explanation was just as much of a lie as everything else about this case had been. "You could have told someone," she said, pretending to believe. "You didn't have to kill them. Why?"

Alicia shrugged, making the nose of the pistol bob, but not enough for Olivia to make a move. After a moment, her hand returned to its rock-steady position. "Because I could."

"You're making a big mistake," Olivia said, keeping the desperation out of her voice. "Killing a police officer is bound to get you the death penalty. I know the DA, the Police Chief, almost every cop at One Hogan Place... several Assistant District Attorneys. I can testify and get them to put you in a cushy mental institution. We can say you're too psychologically disturbed to stand trial." _That isn't too far from the truth,_ she added bitterly inside her head.

"I'm not getting locked up anywhere. This gun isn't registered to me. All I need to do is say that my 'stalker' shot you while you were questioning me, wipe the prints off the gun, and say he was wearing gloves. Even if they suspect me, there will be enough reasonable doubt at trial to get me and James acquitted. Then, double jeopardy comes in to play..."

"That's an awfully long chance. You could try tying me up and run for it. You'd get a decent head start. No one's looking for you."

"This way is easier. Any last words or requests, Detective Benson? You're going to die here one way or another."

_I love you, Alex. If I don't make it out of here, I want to say the words just once... even if it's only in my head..._

"Will you take not shooting me?"

Alicia's smile twitched. "Nice try. Oh well, at least I was kind enough to offer. It's really too bad that you have to die at the beginning of a new romance."

The detective's blood froze. Alicia knew about Alex? How? When? What was she planning to do?

"Oh, don't worry. I have no reason to go after her... unless you give me one and remain uncooperative. Then, I might have to let James take care of her." The brunette remembered the gouged flesh, chunks of it torn off with bare hands, the violent rapes, the coppery smell of death. Nothing was going to happen to Alex. "Now, take your weapon out of your belt and drop it on the floor. Then, kick it over here to me."

Olivia saw one golden chance to get out of this disaster alive, and she decided to grab hold and hang on for dear life. Slowly, she reached for her gun. Moving so quickly that both Alicia and James did not have time to react, she flipped her weapon out of her holster and pointed it directly at Alicia's head. Now, at least, she had a fighting chance. "Drop your weapon," Olivia said, her voice changing from coaxing to harsh in an instant. The hand holding the semi-automatic did not budge. "Drop your weapon!"

Alicia did not seem too concerned. "Don't fire, detective. If you shoot me, James will make it to you in time to snap your neck... if my finger doesn't reflexively pull the trigger first."

Eventually, Olivia knew, one of them would have to take the shot, but the odds were against her. "Think about what you're doing," she said, double-checking to make sure the safety was off with her thumb instead of looking down and giving Alicia an opening to fire. "You think my squad really fell for that stalker bullshit? I might have been wrong about which one of you planned this, but we've been collecting evidence against you and your brother all along." It was a total bluff, but Olivia had been lying through her teeth ever since she crossed the threshold. She figured one more wouldn't hurt her chances. "If you do go to trial, you're looking at an intravenous cocktail. McCoy won't care that you're a woman. You might just be the one to break New York's execution-free streak."

She forced her lips into a confident smirk, one that she could not really feel. In fact, most of her face felt numb. All of her blood was rushing to her heart. "I'll take my chances. Last opportunity to do this the easy way: drop your gun. I'll make it quick. It's a pity James won't get to have fun this time."

Olivia tightened her lips to suppress her gag reflex. Even though she was still holding her gun, she was beginning to panic. She tried to quell the creeping tide of fear that stiffened her muscles. Her finger twitched against the trigger's curve.

... and that was when a chair exploded through the door.

...

**Chapter Thirty-Two:**

The chair's wooden frame crashed through the doorway, sailing directly at James St. Michael's chest and forcing him to take several steps back. Alicia's hand dropped several inches and her head turned instinctively to follow the source of the sudden noise. That momentary distraction was all Olivia needed. Aiming her weapon at Alicia's shoulder, she fired without hesitation. Crying out in surprise and pain, the gun fell from her hand, dropping harmlessly onto the carpet.

Blood poured from the wounded woman's shoulder, blossoming underneath the fabric of her shirt, but Olivia did not spare her more than a fleeting glance. James was charging toward her like a giant bull, and Olivia barely sidestepped in time to avoid most of his bulk. Still, his shoulder caught her arm and sent her spinning.

Trying to orient herself and re-adjusting her grip on the gun, Olivia watched several more objects fly through the air. A picture frame bounced harmlessly off the front of James' chest, but a vase striking him in the gut did slightly more damage. A few more steps and Olivia could see exactly who was catapulting random objects into the room. More accurately, she could see half of an arm, a leg, and part of a shoe. She would have recognized those Pradas anywhere._Alex? Oh no..._

If she had needed any more incentive to shoot James St. Michael, seeing him hurling towards her lover with death in his eyes was the last straw. She aimed the nozzle of her gun at the back of his head and fired. He crumpled to the floor, dropping in a huddle like a discarded sheet. Blood pooled around his face.

Finally, silence.

The two women did not collapse in to each other's arms. In fact, they did not say anything at all. They just stared at each other. Finally, with a shaking hand, Alex took out her cell phone. It was so quiet that Olivia could hear the ringing on the other end even though the phone was not on speaker. "Hello? Yeah. Hi, Monica. Alex Cabot. We're going to need an ambulance and – what do the detectives call it, a meat wagon?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Give me the damn phone..." she muttered. "Benson. We've got an officer-involved shooting at 21 Rathbone Place, two gunshot victims..."

After rattling off all pertinent information with the correct terminology, Olivia hung up the phone with a tap to its screen and handed it back to Alex. There were so many things she wanted to ask, so many things she needed to say, but the only question she could force out was, "how do you know an NYPD switchboard operator?"

"Long story. Should I go downstairs and wait at the front door for the unis to show up?" the blonde asked.

"No," Olivia said, too quickly. "They can find their own way up."

Deciding to humor the detective, she sat down on the bed to wait.

...

Somehow, Alex and Olivia managed to keep it together for the long, quiet five-minute period that they spent waiting for backup to arrive. Olivia explained what had happened in a calm, patient voice while the uniformed officers secured the scene. A call was made to Captain Cragen, a text message was sent to Elliot (no one wanted to risk speaking to him in person), and further calls were made to assorted attorneys, relevant police squads, and IAB. Soon, the place was crawling with various members of law enforcement. It took twenty minutes before the tension that surrounded the two women like a thick, choking fog finally snapped.

Olivia was the first to break. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" she asked hotly. Alex turned to look at her, pausing mid-sentence in the middle of her interview with a young officer sporting a slightly uneven haircut. She knew that she was the one being addressed even though Olivia had neglected to say her name.

"I thought I was saving your life," she snapped back. "You're welcome."

"By throwing a chair at someone holding a gun? You're a lawyer, not Chuck Norris!" Olivia's voice was strained, and a good octave higher than normal. "Do you have a death wish?"

"You're the one who thought it was a good idea to go interrogate a suspect without back-up..."

"You voluntarily put yourself in danger without any regard for your own safety! Why couldn't you be more careful?"

"Why don't you check your Goddamn cell phone?" Alex yelled, shouting loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. By now, a crowd of curious onlookers had amassed. Almost no one was focused on going through the crime scene anymore.

"Cell phones? I could tell you a story about cell phones, Counselor. Why don't you stop telling Abbie Carmichael our private business?"

"Yeah? Well, why don't you grow a pair and talk to me if something's bothering you instead of slinking away like a coward! I know you're the type to fuck and run, but I thought we had moved past that."

"Can you blame me? You've spent the past ten years leaving me! Leaving me for WITSEC, leaving me without saying goodbye after Connors' trial, leaving me for Robert... not talking to me for _three Goddamn years..._ And now you say you want to marry me? After your jaunt in the Sahara, of course..."

"It's the Congo, take a geography class. Use Wikipedia for all I care. While you're doing that, why don't you refresh yourself on police procedure? You're too smart to go around risking your life and doing stupid things like – I don't know – ending up in a Mexican Standoff with two serial killers! Maybe it will keep you from getting your head blown off so I won't have to suffer through your funeral like you had to sit through mine."

"Do you have any idea what they're talking about?" asked the rookie with the bad haircut, whispering to the medical examiner's assistant beside him.

"No," she said, "but it's better than the soaps."

"You are the most insufferable, stuck-up..."

"Pig-headed, obstinate–"

"I love you."

Alex's pale complexion turned bright red. "... Oh," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh..."

"Break it up, people! Don't you have jobs to do? Move it!" A familiar voice bellowed. Elliot Stabler shoved his way through the crowd, grabbing his partner's arm and Alex's wrist. He dragged both of them into a corner of the room, using his body as a small shield. The large, commanding presence of the ex-Marine was enough to send most people scattering, and a few not-very-gentle shoves and angry glares got rid of the most stubborn observers.

"Heard all that, did you?" Alex asked, and he noticed that she was shaking. Elliot gripped her elbow to steady her.

"I came in a little before you told Olivia to grow a pair. God knows I've seen you two fight before, but I think this one takes first prize."

Olivia was staring into space with a shocked expression on her face. Perhaps it was nearly dying, seeing Alex in danger, finally confessing her love, or a combination of the three, but it was all too much for the detective.

Alex sighed. "Come here." Tenderly, she took Olivia's face in her hands. "I love you, too. Maybe you could have picked a more romantic setting instead of blurting it out during an argument in the middle of a crime scene, but I'm glad you told me."

"Huh?" Olivia said, still dazed now that the edge of adrenaline was finally wearing off. The lines in her vision seemed fuzzy and indistinct, and Alex's eyes were so very, very blue... "Alex, you almost died... I can't–"

"Shut up and kiss me."

For one clear moment, nothing mattered. The past ten years didn't matter. All the times that they had run away from each other didn't matter. The fact that Elliot was still watching them didn't matter. Even the fact that Olivia had just killed someone didn't matter (she had seen the standard black body-bag). All that mattered was that Alex was kissing her and she was solid and warm and _alive_ and all hers, and that knowledge was overwhelming. So overwhelming that both of them started crying tears of relief and confusion and joy, hugging each other when the kiss ended.

Steadfast, dependable Elliot, who had only seen his partner cry a handful of times, made sure that any prying eyes were respectfully averted and everyone kept their distance. Keeping his back to Olivia and Alex, he allowed the two women what little privacy he could. He would never admit to it in open court, but part of him felt like crying, too. He was relieved that Olivia was all right, happy that she was happy, angry that she had gone charging off to question Alicia without him, and furious with himself for arriving too late to protect her.

_But I guess that's Alex's job now..._ he thought, a little glumly. It was going to be Alex who comforted Olivia after a hard case. Alex who planned birthdays and holidays around her. Alex who listened to her secret fears and dreams. Not that he and Olivia were chatty about personal things, but they were there for each other. They were partners.

_You're an ass, Stabler. Be glad she's alive, no thanks to you... and you're still her partner._

As if in answer to his silent thoughts, a hand tapped on his shoulder from behind. He turned to face Olivia, who was looking a little more composed. "Yeah?" he said, a little more gruffly than he intended.

"Do you want a hug, too?" Olivia teased, the break in her voice revealing the maelstrom of emotions still raging beneath the surface.

"Go to hell," he said, bumping her shoulder. "I'll give you an 'I'm-glad-you're-not-dead' hug next time, when the mess isn't your own damn fault." He had a feeling things were going to be all right between them. Maybe even better.

...

**Chapter Thirty-Three:**

Olivia was awakened by a soft clicking sound and quiet footsteps scraping over the carpet. She blinked sleepily to clear the last of the blurriness from her eyes, staring at the light trailing out from beneath the crack in the bathroom door. Obviously, Alex had found it difficult to fall asleep. She was surprised that the blonde had not woken her earlier while untangling herself from Olivia's arms.

Her jaw cracking as a yawn stretched the back of her throat, she sat up and leaned back against her pillows, waiting for Alex to finish in the bathroom. A few minutes later, the attorney crept back into the bedroom, smiling at Olivia when she saw that the detective was awake.

"Hey you," she said, running a hand through her hair to straighten it as she perched on the side of Olivia's bed. She was naked, her clothes resting in Olivia's hamper, but the brunette was wearing a sleep shirt. "I tried not to wake you up. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, beautiful." Now that she was awake again, Olivia knew that she would not be able to fall asleep for another few hours. "Dad told me to take tomorrow off anyway... I'd just be pushing papers until IAB finishes their investigation."

"It was a clean shoot," Alex reassured her. "By the way, I used your toothbrush. I hope you don't mind."

Olivia arched her eyebrows. "Really? I don't mind, but I'm surprised you did... You strike me as the germaphobe type."

"Was the hand sanitizer in my office your first clue?" Alex grinned sheepishly. "I didn't want to... but I figure my mouth has already explored most of your mouth, so borrowing your toothbrush wouldn't do any lasting damage. Besides, I hate going to bed without brushing my teeth, it makes me feel gross."

The attorney climbed over to the other side of Olivia's bed, which was smaller than hers but comfortably sized for two if they didn't mind snuggling. She remembered Abbie's comment from a while back – that Benson never let her bedmates stayed the night – and was pleased that Olivia had broken the rules for her.

"Are you sleepy?" the detective asked as Alex found a comfortable place against her side, draping an arm over her abdomen.

Alex decided to answer honestly. "No. Too many thoughts going through my head. Why do you think they did it?"

"God, I stopped asking why years ago. There's never a good answer. Even when the vic is more like a perp and someone kills them out of a misguided sense of justice, I still don't completely understand it." A sudden thought struck her. "How did you know where I was?"

Alex smiled against Olivia's shoulder. "I played detective," she said. "Elliot called me and said James St. Michael was our perp. He thought you were with me since you weren't answering your phone. When we realized we had no idea where you were, I went to the station house to look for you and saw the open case file on your desk with the address on top..."

"And you came running to save the day," Olivia finished for her. "I still haven't forgiven you for that, but I guess I can't complain since you probably saved my life and all."

There was a pause while the tension between them continued to mount. "Hey, I got a love confession out of it," Alex teased, trying to lighten the mood. She really did not want to be reminded of how close Olivia had come to being shot. She knew first hand how frightening and painful it was, and the thought of losing Olivia...

"So, do you want to try and fall back asleep?" she asked, looking up at the brunette with blue eyes.

"I don't think so. My really sexy girlfriend is naked in bed next to me. Even after the night I've had, I'm surprised I fell asleep the first time."

Alex's eyes widened, and for a moment Olivia thought she was upset. "Does – does she know about us?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and snorted, dropping a kiss on Alex's head. "You're not as funny as you think you are, Counselor."

"Oh well. Maybe you keep me around because of my other talents..."

Olivia could barely suppress a groan as Alex rolled on top of her, two inquisitive hands closed over her breasts and squeezed through the fabric of her nightshirt, shocked at how quickly she responded to Alex's touch. "Think you're going to get lucky, blondie?" she teased, trying to downplay her own need, which was rising fast enough to make her uncomfortable.

"I know I'm going to get lucky." Olivia began to protest when Alex's hands abandoned her breast, but stopped when she realized that the attorney was only trying to lift her shirt. "Let me see you?"

Olivia let Alex draw the shirt over her head, lifting her arms to help. For a moment, Alex just stared at her, overwhelmed by the sight of her naked lover, her tan skin illuminated by the muted glow of the digital alarm clock. "I almost lost you today," she whispered, her finger tracing a heart over Olivia's stomach as she swallowed back tears.

"I know. But you didn't. I'm right here, Lex, and I love you..." Olivia said. Slipping beneath the sheets, she held them up, inviting Alex to join her. Eager for the feel of skin against skin, the attorney quickly obliged, lowering her face for a kiss. Although Alex's weight was resting on top of her, the blonde's touches were slow and deliberate, as though she was reassuring herself that Olivia was really there and in one piece.

Knowing that words would not be enough, Olivia used her lips and hands to remind her lover that she was all right, that she understood. Part of her wanted to say 'I love you' again, but she was worried that the attorney was not ready to hear it again, not while she was still processing what could have happened to either of them. To her surprise, Alex kissed the point of her chin and said, "I know." Lips searching and finding the blonde's, she wrapped her arms around Alex's waist and pulled her closer for a proper kiss.

The next hour was wonderful beyond her wildest dreams. Somehow, simply letting Alex know that she loved her allowed Olivia to open herself to a new level of intimacy. Her first release came quickly, coaxed from her by Alex's talented fingers, and when her lover began to kiss her way down the line of her stomach, pausing to nip the skin beside her right hip, Olivia's eyes closed even though she desperately wanted to watch.

Her fingers curled through Alex's hair, not forcing or guiding, but clinging for dear life as Alex's tongue covered her in one long, broad stroke...

"I love you."

And once she said those three words again the words that had released all of the feelings that she had tried to keep locked away for so long, she could not stop saying them. Usually, Alex was the talkative one, the one that urged Olivia to kiss her, touch her, take her harder, the one that said 'I love you', but the blonde's hot mouth had Olivia whispering, whimpering, and sighing it over and over again.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

And even when her lover's second orgasm crested and stole her breath away, Alex could hear the words echoing in her head. With a satisfied hum, the attorney placed one last, lingering kiss between her lover's legs, pleased that Olivia was pleased and incredibly touched by the amount of trust that she knew the detective had placed in her by confessing her feelings.

"I really do," Olivia said when she caught her breath, still panting as a contented Alex tenderly cleaned her inner thighs, stroking the sensitive skin behind her knee with a free hand.

"I know," she murmured into slick, salty skin. "I love you, too." But guiding her lover through two peaks of her own had Alex excited, and although she loved touching Olivia, her body was demanding some kind of stimulation.

While Olivia was still recovering from her pleasure, Alex kissed her way back up her stomach, pausing to kiss the detective's breasts and shoulders, urging Olivia's leg to press between her own. Getting the hint, Olivia pushed upwards, watching in fascination as Alex tipped her head back. The brunette hissed with pleasure as she felt the warm trail of wetness painting her upper thigh. Still too winded to do much more than offer the blonde a few drowsy kisses, she let Alex set their rhythm. Olivia was shocked when the lithe body stiffened above hers, watching the play of emotions flicker across Alex's face when her orgasm stalled, crested, and finally crashed over her in a shuddering wave of pleasure.

This time, it was Alex's turn to melt in Olivia's arms, collapsing bonelessly on top of the detective and burying her face against the warm crook of Olivia's neck. "I didn't know you were... that close..." she said, one hand crawling down to cup between the blonde's legs, finding her still swollen and wanting.

"Pleasing you pleases me. I can't have enough of you. In fact..." Copying Olivia, Alex let her own hand roam lower for a second time. "Together this time?"

Olivia nodded, having regained some of her strength, and gently flipped Alex over. "Together," she agreed, taking Alex's lips in another kiss.

...

**Chapter Thirty-Four:**

A rhythmic thud from somewhere outside of Olivia's bedroom awakened Alex from her light slumber. "Olivia Benson! Open this door right now!" The muffled thumping continued, causing Olivia to groan and roll over beside her, pulling the sheets and comforter over top of her head.

"Make it go away..."

"Mm," Alex groaned, popping the vertebrae in her neck and stretching her arms above her head to loosen the muscles in her back. "Fine."

_Thud._ "Olivia!"

"Coming!" Alex shouted, reaching for her glasses and pulling Olivia's discarded sleep shirt from the previous night over her head.

"That's what you said last night," Olivia added from under the covers.

"Be nice to me," Alex warned her. "I'm getting out of this warm, comfortable bed to answer _your_ door." The blonde swung her legs over the side of the bed and curled her toes as they brushed the carpet. Making sure the essentials were covered, she padded out of the room, running her fingers through mussed hair. She had a pretty good idea who was making the ruckus that had disturbed them.

"I know you're hiding her in there, Benson! Let me in or I'll open a can of whoopass on this door, followed shortly by your fine behind."

"I'm coming!" Alex called out again as she dragged her tired body towards Olivia's front door.

"That's what she said!"

Alex opened Olivia's front door to reveal a very irritated looking and slightly pale Abbie Carmichael. "You weren't supposed to show up until tomorrow," she sighed, standing aside so that the dark-haired Texan could come in to the apartment. "How did you even get up here?"

Abbie's face brightened a bit and she grinned. "Told Olivia's landlord I was with the FBI."

Alex glared at her disapprovingly. "And why are you here at..." she trailed off, realizing that she had no idea what time it was, "this inconveniently early hour?"

"Because you and Olivia were on the Goddamn news for busting some serial killers. My phone was ringing off the hook with all kinds of stories from mutual acquaintances. According to some, both of you were shot and laid up at Mt. Sinai... A few told me Olivia was dead, and one said that you and Olivia had sex in front of the Crime Scene techs..."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Okay, that one was Munch, so I didn't believe him. You didn't, did you?"

"Of course not! Olivia did confess her undying love, though."

"I heard that, too. I got the real version of events from Stabler before all the crazy calls came in."

"That man is almost as much of a gossip as you. So, you're here because...?"

"I was going to visit anyway, and since both of you had a near-death experience, I figured some comic relief was needed."

Alex was touched. "You wanted to make sure we were fine."

"Well, sugar, you're standing in front of me half-naked, and I can say that you are most definitely _fine_." Abbie's lips curled mischievously and she leaned forward to tweak one of Alex's nipples through her nightshirt.

"Hands off, Carmichael," a voice growled from the hallway leading to the bedroom. Olivia wandered out, wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her hair in a similar state of disarray. "Stop yakking in the doorway where all of my neighbors can hear you. The walls aren't that thick here."

Alex's eyes widened. "They – they aren't?" A rosy flush blossomed across her cheeks and Abbie howled with laughter. Olivia was the only one with enough presence of mind to pull the door closed, pausing to drop a kiss on Alex's bare shoulder.

"Was there any pounding on the walls or ceilings from the neighbors last night, Benson?"

Olivia shrugged. "Not last night... Either everyone was asleep, we weren't that loud, or they enjoyed the show too much to complain."

Alex clapped an embarrassed hand over her eyes. "Oh no..."

"How did you get up here, anyway?" Olivia asked Abbie, changing the subject.

"Lied and told your landlord I was the FBI," she said proudly.

The detective snorted. "Why does that not surprise me? Come in to the kitchen. I'll make some coffee. I guess we have to keep you now that we've taken you in."

"Thanks, Olivia. You sure know how to make a person feel welcome."

...

Alex was just pouring out a third and final mug of coffee for herself when a loud, buzzing sound startled her. Fortunately, she did not shake the pot enough to spill any coffee. "You have a buzzer?" she asked Olivia before narrowing her eyes at Carmichael. "Why couldn't you have used that instead of pounding on the door?"

"I did. You two slept through it. That was when I told Olivia's landlord I was-"

"I'll see who it is and buzz them up," Olivia interrupted, setting her own mug of coffee back down on the kitchen table and standing up to answer the door.

"I have no idea who else would bother Olivia this early," Alex said. "Elliot, Finn, Munch, and Cragen saw her last night, so they know she's fine."

"Could be someone else for you," Abbie pointed out.

"No one knows I'm here."

Abbie took a long sip of her coffee and considered this. "I figured it out."

"You pestered me into giving you details about my relationship with Olivia. By the way, be careful what you leave on people's voicemail. We're okay now, but your joking around spooked Olivia last night."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, the message you left me saying that I had Olivia roped and branded, and asking to be a bridesmaid at our wedding?"

The federal prosecutor shrugged. "It's true." Alex sighed and gave up. There was just no explaining things to Abbie sometimes.

"Hey, Alex, why do all of your lawyer friends keep showing up at –my– apartment?" Olivia asked, reentering the kitchen with a familiar figure behind her.

"Because they're smart. Good morning, Serena. I see you've found my hiding place."

Serena stepped forward to give Alex a hug. "I use my brain occasionally. Olivia was nice enough to buzz me up." Straightening her shoulders and steeling herself, the shorter blonde turned to face Abbie, who was still seated at the kitchen table and staring at Serena with wide, dark eyes. "Hello, Abbie."

Swallowing, the brunette gave Serena a small, nervous smile. "Howdy, stranger."

Glossing over the hellos quickly so that they would not be left with an awkward silence, Alex hurried to prepare a fourth mug of coffee for Serena. "Thanks for dropping by. I was wondering who else had enough chutzpah to bother a gun-carrying police officer and a former ADA this early in the morning."

"I'm here for selfish reasons," Serena said. "I wanted to see for myself that both of you were okay. I know both of you probably want to be alone after–"

"Too late for that," Alex said cheerfully, giving Abbie a meaningful glance. "Stay as long as you'd like, Serena."

"Hey, whose apartment is this?" Olivia teased.

"Oh, I forgot... we should probably head back to my place. Abbie's staying through the weekend and we need to drop off her luggage. Let's finish our coffee, get dressed, and then we can get some breakfast before driving over there."

"You're so bossy, Cabot. Where did you have in mind for breakfast?"

"You can pick, Abbie." Alex handed Serena a steaming mug of her own and offered her a seat at the table. "You're more than welcome to join us, Serena." _If you feel comfortable,_ Alex added silently, not wanting to force her friend to interact with Abbie if she didn't feel ready.

Serena gave her a reassuring smile. "Thanks, Alex. I'd like that. Maybe the four of us can even make a day of it."

...

**Epilogue:**

Alex groaned, pulling her pillow over her ears and burying her face in the mattress. The rhythmic creaking from the guest room made her teeth clench, and she released another frustrated sigh into the warm sheets. "Shut up, shut up, shut up..." she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow covering the back of her head.

_Thunk. Thunk._

"Oh, Abbie!"

_Thunka-thunk crrreak._

"Yes, yes... don't stop..."

_CRACK_

Alex began banging her forehead on the bed, making the pillow over her head jump up and down. "There goes the paint job behind the headboard..."

"What did you say, honey?" Olivia yawned, coming out of the bathroom. For a moment, Alex peeked out from underneath her pillow and stared at the gorgeous curves of her naked lover, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. The mood was rudely interrupted by more noises from the guest room.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God..."

_Thud. Thud. Crrrreak._

Olivia grinned, enjoying Alex's obvious irritation. "Well, Tex is working fast over there," she said, sitting on the bed and rubbing soothing circles on Alex's bare back.

"Don't remind me." Screwing up her face in mock pain, Alex threw the pillow towards the foot of the bed, laying her head on Olivia's thigh. The detective took the hint and stroked the attorney's mane of blonde hair, massaging her scalp and scratching the back of her neck.

"I know we cooked them dinner, but I wasn't expecting a show as well."

"Watch it, Benson, or I'll kill you once I'm through with them."

Olivia leaned down to kiss the crown of Alex's head. "Yes, dear."

"I've already got you trained," Alex mused, squinting up at Olivia with blue eyes made sharper by her irritation with Abbie. "It would be a shame to get rid of you now."

_Boom. Scrrrape. Boom._

"Oh, Abigail!"

"_Oh, Abigail!"_ Alex mocked, rolling her eyes. "Must they move the entire bed? It's sturdy enough, not some rusty old frame..."

The brunette considered this. "We could always make it a competition."

"A competition?"

"Hey, if we have to listen to them, there's no reason we can't do the same. I know you can be a pretty _vocal_ lover." It was true. Depending on her mood, Alex kept up a running commentary while they made love (except while Olivia was kissing her senseless). The detective didn't mind. Far from it. Alex's word choices were often very... stimulating.

_Speaking of stimulating, sexy things... _Olivia reached for the blonde's glasses, which were waiting for her on the bedside table. She blushed as she handed them to Alex and helped her slide them over her nose and ears. "Put these on for me?"

Alex's lips spread in a thin smirk. "You like my glasses that much?"

"Sweetie, you have _no_ idea..." Olivia groaned, her hands stroking Alex's inner thighs as she leaned in for a hungry kiss.

...

In the next room, Serena and Abbie fell backwards onto their bed, laughing hysterically. Tears streamed down both of their cheeks, which were sore from smiling so hard. It took several minutes for them to finally catch their breath. They tried valiantly to muffle their giggles with their hands and, in Abbie's case, a nearby pillow.

"Can't you just picture Alex's face?" Serena crowed triumphantly, somehow managing to relegate her volume to a half-whisper.

Abbie peeked over the top of the pillowcase, dark eyes twinkling. "I'm sure it's a Kodak moment," she drawled. "So, little lady, you wanna jump on the bed some more and make them both even more uncomfortable?"

Serena tried to answer, but her words were lost in another round of giggles. "Oh God... hahah- mmmf..." She stuffed her fist in her mouth and bit down lightly to try and keep quiet. "Oooh my stomach hurts."

With an evil gleam in her eye and a big smile that showed both of her dimples, Abbie pulled her face away from the pillow. Bouncing up and down on the bed until it started to groan, she yelled, "That's it, baby... Harder!" Falling backwards against the headboard and using the pillow to protect herself, she made the bed scrape against the wall, holding her sides and bursting into another fit of laughter. "This is the most fun I've had in years," she said, sotto voce this time. Her expression was painted with a new layer of sincerity that touched Serena's heart... and frightened her.

"Years," Serena said, tasting the word in her mouth. It had been years since she and Abbie spent any time together without ignoring each other, trying to kill each other, or, in two cases, kissing frantically in a coat closet before Serena realized what she was doing and ran screaming for the hills. Maybe things – people – could change in the span of a few years.

"So, do you think that maybe, tomorrow..." Abbie's voice trailed off, looking at the restless hands sitting in her lap. "Damn, I'm jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Sorry..."

Serena smiled. "It's okay," she said, resting a hand on Abbie's shoulder. She had a pretty good idea what Abbie was trying to ask her, but she also wanted to hear the dark-haired prosecutor say it out loud.

"I know I was a bit of a Maverick back when we... well, I was hopin' we could go to dinner. You know, catch up some more."

"Catch up as friends?"

"Yes," Abbie said in a rush, "or..."

Serena leaned closer, her hand moving from Abbie's shoulder to her thigh. Even though the denim of her jeans, the other woman's skin felt extremely warm. "Or...?"

"Or maybe something more, if you're comfortable."

"I'm afraid you'll hurt me again."

Abbie flinched. Serena was nothing if not brutally honest. "I won't, but I don't suppose that means much to you, considerin'."

"You're dropping your G's on the floor, Cowgirl."

"I'm nervous." Abbie could not help blushing at the term of endearment, one that Serena had not used in far too long. It felt good hearing it from her lips again. Right. "So, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner if I annunciate properly and promise not to flirt with the waitress?"

"Or anybody else?"

"Or anybody else." Abbie paused. "I made a mistake when I let you walk out of my life, even though I deserved it."

The blonde gave Abbie's thigh a reassuring squeeze. "Yes. I'll go to dinner with you."

"As friends? Or-"

"We'll see. If we decide we want it to be a date if the night goes well, then..."

The Texan could not hide her blush. Carefully, just in case Serena began looking uncomfortable, Abbie covered the blonde's hand with her own. "I would like that a lot." The two women stared at each other for a long, poignant moment...

_Thud. Thud. Crrrreak._

"Mm, Olivia... Keep going..."

Silence. Then, _Thump-a-thump-a CRACK._

"Ah, Lex... you feel _so _good-"

_Thump._

Abbie and Serena's stare suddenly became less intimate and more embarrassed. Both of them avoided each other's eyes, staring at the wall separating their rooms. "You don't suppose they're faking like we did?" Serena asked hopefully.

Abbie just shook her head, staring into space with wide brown eyes.

_**Two Hours Later...**_

Abbie groaned, pulling her pillow over her ears and burying her face in the mattress. "Fucking hell!" she hissed, glaring at the wall. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"I suppose we asked for it," Serena said beside her. Unlike Abbie, she had her eyes closed and was trying to sleep, although she had not been successful in ignoring the noise so far.

"Yeah, but two hours? Really..."

"_Lechez-moi... S'il-vous-plait... mm.. oh, yes... Just – like –"_

"_Like that, baby?"_

"_Baisez-moi..."_

"Again with the French? I'm sick and tired of Miss I'm-Embarrased-About-Sex-So-I-Use-Euphemisms-Or-Another-Language over there getting more action than me." Abbie reached over the other side of the bed, leaning half on top of Serena's prone form and grabbing one of her shoes from the floor. "Shut up, you perverts! Or at least say 'fuck me' in English for a Goddamn change!" Unceremoniously, she heaved her shoe at the wall. It connected with a satisfying thud, but the noises from the next room did not stop.

"Oh God, Oh God, Olivia... je jouis! I'm com-"

Twin cries of ecstasy made Abbie tug on her hair. "And do you always have to come at the same Goddamn time? One of you is loud enough!" she shouted. "Why, why, why did I agree to stay here during my visit?"

When her bed companion did not answer, Abbie glanced over to see that Serena had finally succumbed to exhaustion. After smiling at the serene expression on her ex-girlfriend's face, Abbie cracked open one eye and stared at the wall. She was alone in bed with the woman she had been harboring feelings for while listening to her best friend having sex with her hot girlfriend. _Karma is a bitch._

With a long sigh, she stole the pillow from under Serena's blonde head, pulling both of them over to her side of the bed and sandwiching her head in between. "C'est la vie," she said, praying that one or both of her hostesses would run out of energy soon... but, knowing them, it wasn't likely. She was going to be dog tired in the morning.

**The End**


End file.
